Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“By doing that with—” I froze, then smacked him in the chest. “Stop flirting with me!”
“Don’t want to,” he muttered, and his lips brushed my hair as he spoke. “I like seeing you get flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.”
“Tell that to your cheeks.”
“Stop bullying me.”
“I’m not bullying you. I’m flirting with you.”
“I’m starting to think that my cousin doesn’t want that LEGO set after all, you know.”
He stilled. “I’ll behave.”
“Excellent idea,” I said. “Now, can we focus on the board games?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – SYLVIE
I was most definitely in the middle of a crisis right now.
At least it was one of my own, not one caused by anything wedding-related for once.
And it was all because of the man asking my opinion on a pair of boots for his sister-in-law.
Allegedly for his sister-in-law.
“You know,” I said, staring at the boots in front of us. “You said this was to cheer me up, but really, I think you just wanted a hand in finishing up your Christmas shopping.”
“It might have been a mutually beneficial endeavour,” Thomas replied, slowly nodding his head. “But, hey, haven’t you got some of your Christmas shopping done?”
I sighed. “Hands down the best thing I purchased today is a new gravy boat. I’ll have to put a sticker on this one that says, ‘Do not use to wash the pig.’”
“That’s really not something one should ever have to write on a gravy boat.”
“Well, tell that to my grandmother.”
“She scares me a bit, to be honest,” he admitted. “How did she even get the pig?”
“I have no idea, and as much as I want to know, I also don’t want to ask. I’m afraid to hear she may have kidnapped it.”
He peered over at me. “Is that really a thought you should entertain about your grandmother?”
“Not for most people, but I watched her scold someone for taking the piss out of her pig while eating a pork sandwich, so I can hardly take her seriously.”
“Ah.”
Yes.
That was about the only reply for that.
And to think that poor Gramps couldn’t even have bacon in the house.
“Which pair do you think Beth would like?” Thomas asked, leaning in towards the display. “The black ones or the brown ones?”
“How would I know? Ask your sister!”
“Mm, can’t.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not talking to me since I refused to give her a job.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe the brown ones. I think she has an older pair like this.”
Then why was he asking me? And why would he refuse to give his own sister a job?
Welp. That was none of my business.
I leant over and peeked up at him. “Is Zara not talking to you, or are you the one not talking to Zara?”
“Bit of both.”
“...These boots are for Zara, aren’t they?”
Thomas coughed into his hand and looked to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Aw. Even he could get embarrassed.
“Go for the brown ones.” I nudged him with my elbow and smirked.
He cleared his throat. “Right. Beth will like them.”
“Yeah, sure. Beth will like them.” I rolled my eyes. Because everyone knew that giving a pair of heeled boots to a pregnant lady was a good idea. “I’m going to buy Nana some slippers. Do you think you can manage alone from here?”
“You’re speaking as though you’re shopping with a child.”
“You’d have a better argument if you hadn’t just subliminally coerced me into buying you a LEGO set.”
Thomas grinned. “You said that was for your cousin.”
“I guess you’re my cousin, then.”
“Do you often drunkenly kiss your cousin, Sylvie?”
“No, but I didn’t kiss you either, so...” I sniffed. “Finish your shopping. I haven’t had my fill of Christmas lights yet, and I didn’t let you drag me all over so you could go ahead and use me as your personal shopper.”
Thomas motioned for a store clerk to come over and looked at me over his shoulder. “There’s a mulled wine stall on the green.”
I gave him a thumb up. “Let me buy Nana’s slippers, and I’ll meet you outside.”
“You’re so easily bribed.”
“Well, I have been considering that this might be the wedding that makes me an alcoholic, so I’ve decided to embrace the inevitability of it.” I shrugged. “It’ll give me something to look forward to during the next disagreement with the bride.”
“I’m not sure if alcoholism is something to aspire to, Sylvie.”
“It’s alcoholism or sororicide. Wine suits me. Jumpsuits do not.” I smiled blithely at him. “And I was hoping to one day live without roommates, not corner myself into a situation where I’d have to share a six-by-eight space with another woman for the next twenty-five years.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
“Sometimes, the only difference between me and a serial killer is my ability to talk myself out of breaking the law. Are you scared yet?”
“Uncomfortably attracted to you, actually.”
I smacked his arm and finally put distance between us. “Just buy what you need to, and I’ll meet you outside.”