Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I scroll through them. “Looks good.” I hand the phone back to her.
She deflates. “Good? Baby, did you see the hearth over the fireplace? It’s a work of art.”
I nod. “That’s what I meant. It looks like a work of art.”
Blair rolls her eyes. “You suck. I’m glad I took my mom. She knows how to be appropriately happy for me.”
“What was her appropriate response?”
“Jumping up and down and squealing. Then we headed straight to Restoration Hardware and ordered furniture.”
I nodded. “Great. Thanks for doing that.”
She grins. “You’re welcome.”
I gesture toward the door. “Now, can you close the door and take off your clothes?”
Her nose wrinkles. “What’s your deal? When I suggest we have sex during the day, you get uptight about my parents being awake and hearing us, but now you’re ready to just go at it at”—she inspects her watch—“four in the afternoon?”
“I’ve missed you.”
“Aw …” She makes duck lips. “I missed you too, baby. But I want to get a workout in before dinner.”
“Great idea. I’ll let you ride me.” I lean forward and reach for her hand.
She pulls away and scrambles off the other side of the bed. “Tonight.” She blows me a kiss.
I wait for her to change her mind, but the only change she makes is into her leggings and sports bra.
“My parents are going out to dinner tonight, so we’ll have the house to ourselves for a few hours. How does that sound?”
I scrub my hands over my face and look at her with a manufactured smile and a tiny nod.
“I’m jogging to the park and doing some stretching there before heading home. Give me an hour?”
Again, I nod.
“Enjoy your dinner,” she says to her parents in the hallway.
“Alice is making a quiche for tomorrow morning,” Vera says. “If you want her to make you two dinner, let her know before she leaves for the night.”
“Murphy and I will fend for ourselves, but I’ll tell her on my way out the back door,” Blair replies.
I stare out the window and wait for Vera and Hunter to pull onto the street. A few seconds later, Blair jogs down the sidewalk. I should stay in my room and wait for her to return. Maybe we’ll shower together.
Unfortunately, I’ve never been good at doing what I should do, so I head to the kitchen. “I hear you have the night off.”
Alice jerks her head up like I’ve startled her, then she seethes, quickly looking back down at the cutting board filled with diced onion and blood.
“Oh, shit,” I say, grabbing a towel.
“It’s f-fi.” She passes out, and I catch her before she hits the floor.
“Alice?” I ease her onto her back and wrap her cut finger with a towel before pulling out a drawer to prop up her feet.
Her eyes slowly open.
“Welcome back. I think you’ll need a couple of stitches.”
She hugs her wrapped hand to her chest. “I ruined the quiche,” she says in a weak voice.
“I don’t think you need to concern yourself with that. Let’s go get this taken care of.”
“I’ve got it.” She winces, trying to sit up. “Oh god, is it bad?”
I laugh a little. “I take it you don’t handle blood well.”
“Not mine. Ugh, I feel nauseous.”
“Just don’t look at it. Look at me. Chin up.” I lift her off the floor, and she drops her gaze to her hand. “Alice, look at me.”
She swallows hard, skin pasty white. “Just call me a cab.”
“I’m not calling you a cab,” I say, carrying her down the stairs to the garage.
“It feels weird,” she says in a desperate tone. “Did you look at it? Is it still attached? Is part of my finger still on the cutting board. Oh god …” She closes her eyes, each breath more labored than the previous one.
It’s not funny, so I try not to laugh, but I’ve never seen this side of her. I set her on her feet, keeping one arm around her waist as I open the passenger door.
“I’m going to pass out again. I need the seat to be leaned back.”
“I’ve got you.”
She closes her eyes and groans like a wounded animal as I push the seat recline button. Then I fasten her in, and we head to urgent care.
I call Blair on the way. “Hey, baby,” Blair says, panting. “I’m not even to the park yet. What do you need?”
“Alice cut her finger. I’m taking her to urgent care.”
“I’m … I’m sorry,” Alice mumbles.
“What did she say?” Blair asks.
“She’s not doing well with the blood, but she’s trying to apologize to you even though there is no need to apologize.”
“Ouch. Well, I hope she’ll be okay.”
“Nothing a couple of stitches won’t take care of. I’ll see you when we get back.”
“K,” she says before I disconnect the call.
“Ugh, I ruined your night. I’m so sorry.”