Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Oh.” I slurped the icy, milky mix from the bottom of the cup. “Normal milk?”
“I prefer coconut,” Cara answered. “But you can use any one you like, really. Most people use oat, but the coconut adds a bit of sweetness so I don’t need sugar.”
Right.
The kids these days were all about their health.
Ugh.
Was twenty-nine really old enough to be using a phrase like ‘the kids these days?’
Then again, if I ever ended up with a split personality, I was pretty sure my second one would be a ninety-year-old woman with a penchant for yelling at people to get off her lawn, so it wasn’t really that far-fetched.
“Ha, ha.” I stuck my tongue out again as the heat returned. “Is ebber enbing,” I gasped.
“What is going on here?” Susan asked, staring at me. “Put your tongue away, Rose.”
Sabrina quickly explained it, and right as Susan pulled a bottle of water out of her bag, George exploded out of his shed with a lolly stick in his hand.
“Carolina Reaper!” he exclaimed happily. “Found the tag on the floor!”
He couldn’t have done that ten minutes ago?
I gratefully took the uncapped bottle from Susan and glugged the cool water down. That was the last time I ever agreed to be George’s taste tester, that was for sure.
The water and matcha combined did their job, and after a good ten minutes of Susan ranting at George about the importance of keeping his labels in order and him batting his eyelashes flirtatiously at her, my mouth was somewhat back to normal.
“I feel like I walk into chaos every time I come here.”
My head jerked around at the sound of Oliver’s voice. “Then stop coming here,” I said dryly, catching Cara dipping her head as she blushed.
Yeah.
I get you, girl.
Fortunately, I had a reputation to uphold, and that did not involve blushing at handsome men.
It involved getting put into a jail cell for timeout and having one-sided conversations with my chickens.
“Ah, but then I’d get to miss out on your delightful personality, Rose.” Oliver leant against the fence, meeting my eyes with a damningly sexy smile. “And a day without your mild verbal abuse is simply too boring.”
“Your masochistic tendencies are coming out, Your Grace,” I said drolly, capping the water bottle. “You should be careful before you shatter everyone’s holier-than-thou view of you.”
Susan snorted.
Oliver’s smile widened. “Now, don’t be daft. I know nobody here sees me as a saint of any kind.”
“At least you’re self-aware. You need one good quality, I suppose.” I stretched as I got up. “Hey, George? Have you got that chilli you were just asking me about?”
George blinked at me. “Huh?”
“I’d try it for you, but I’ve got a split lip. Just there, look.” I tapped the outer corner of my lower lip. “Why don’t you ask our most noble duke over there to taste test it for you?”
“Oh.” He paused. “Well, if he wouldn’t mind.”
Hey.
Why hadn’t I received such concern from him? He’d practically shoved the thing down my throat!
I glanced at Oliver.
His gaze was firmly fixed on me, and there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. “This feels like a trap.”
“I would never,” I replied, blinking innocently. I offered him my best sweet smile. “I really would do it myself, but with my lip, I just can’t.” I sighed as if it were a true hardship. “Take one for the team, would you?”
He stared at me for a moment, lips curved to one side, gaze uncomfortably intense.
He knew.
I knew he knew.
And he knew that I knew that he knew.
It was a silent battle of wills. Would he give in to my obvious trap? Or would he refuse?
He drew in a deep breath and held out his hand. “Pass one here, George.”
Oh, my God.
I thought he would refuse.
Cara watched with wide eyes as George snipped a chilli from the plant and handed it to Oliver, and I winced as he bit into it with zero hesitation.
Oh.
This man was a fool.
He screwed his face up as the heat hit, and a flicker of guilt rose within me. My mouth was still burning, and I’d had that magical matcha whatsit to cool me down.
His eyes watered, with one tear running down his cheek, and he raised his hand.
“No!” I bolted across my plot to him and grabbed his wrist just before he could touch his face. “Do not touch your eyes, idiot!”
He peeked one eye open. “I was going to wipe my cheek,” he rasped out.
I did it for him, swiping away that tear, and shoved the remaining water in his hand. “Drink that.”
“Open it for me,” he murmured. “My mouth hurts, and it’s your fault.”
I unscrewed the cap and as I gave him the water, whispered, “You knew what I was doing. You’re a fool.”
He chuckled softly. “Only for you.”
I jolted back as if his words had burnt me, and my cheeks were almost warmer than my mouth.