Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Few people on earth can out-stubborn this woman.
It’s one of the things I admire about her, when she isn’t using that stubbornness to keep me from slipping into her DMs, of course.
“Perfect,” she announces, tossing a T-Rex stuffy and a bunny dressed as a princess into the cart before pointing down an aisle. “Jammies are next. I’m sure you know their sizes, Luis, and new jammies make everything better. Hurry scurry.” She pushes the cart in the opposite direction as she orders over her shoulder, “I’ll grab stuff for second dinner and meet you guys by the checkout in ten minutes. We’re going to be starved after all this shopping.”
Luis watches her go, a dazed grin on his face. “Your girlfriend’s sweet. A little scary, but very sweet.”
“She is, but she’s not my girlfriend. Yet. But I’m working on it. Hard.”
He chuckles. “I hear that. And don’t give up. I had to ask Lila out five times before she finally said yes.”
As we head to the pajama section, I ask, “Yeah? Why did she say no so many times? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Luis shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t mind. We were friends first. Her dad was my boss at my first electric job. Lila and I have known each other since we were kids.” He clears his throat. “Well, since she was a kid. When we met, she was still a teenager. That was part of it. She was afraid her dad would be pissed if she started dating a twenty-one-year-old when she was only seventeen.”
“Was he?” I ask. “Sorry, I’m nosy tonight. And every night, if I’m being honest.”
Luis stops beside the kiddie PJ table, an explosion of primary colors that gives me a little bit of a headache. “It’s no problem. And nah, her dad wasn’t mad. He knew I was a stand-up guy. How about you? How did you and Makena meet?”
“She used to be my babysitter,” I say, with a grin. “When I was twelve and she was eighteen.”
He snorts. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“You’re serious,” he presses.
“I am, and it’s not weird,” I insist. “We met again last fall as adults, and there was chemistry. Now, we’re sort of living together, but only because she lost her home and business in the flood, too. Still, I’m hoping it’ll become something more.”
Luis sobers. “Aw, man. I’m sorry to hear that.” He glances in the direction Makena disappeared a few minutes ago. “Takes a special person to go out of her way to help a stranger when she’s lost so much.”
“She’s special. No doubt,” I agree, sighing as I add, “I’m totally gone on her. If she doesn’t agree to date me, I’m going to cry into my pillow every night for a long, long time.”
Luis, who obviously doesn’t know me and doesn’t realize I’m always a little serious when I say melodramatic shit like that, laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “I don’t think you have to worry. She likes you, man. I can tell.”
I hope he’s right.
She certainly looks pleased when we meet her at the checkout with not only jammies, but a few romance novels I grabbed on the way past the book section.
“Look, cowboys,” I say proudly, holding up the three covers. I nod toward the middle one. “The guy in the brown hat is my favorite. He looks handsome, but a little tragic, and look at those quads. Dude fills the hell out of a pair of jeans.”
“He really does,” Luis agrees, studying the cover as he sucks in his small gut. “I’m going to have to get back to the gym.”
“Parker can give you work out tips,” Makena says. “He’s a professional athlete.”
Luis glances my way. “Really? You play football, man? Honestly, you looked kind of familiar.”
I scoff. “Football? No way. Hockey, man. I’m with the Voodoo.”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” he says, a delighted grin stretching across his face. “I caught a game before Christmas last year, man. You guys are good!”
By the time we pull up to his temporary home at The Budgeteer Motel, I’ve forced tickets on him for the upcoming season, and Luis is starting to feel like an old friend.
Sadly, the motel looks like it’s seen better days—from the cracked parking lot to the flickering neon sign, to the scuff marks on the doors. But there are toys visible in several of the windows, which somehow makes the place feel sadder.
His family clearly isn’t the only one seeking refuge in this place.
“Room 108,” Luis says, motioning to the far corner, where his wife is already opening the door.
“Hey! Welcome, y’all.” Lila, a brunette with warm, but tired brown eyes, waves us over, reaching for Luis as he gets closer. “Glad you texted, baby. The rugrats were getting sleepy, but when they heard Daddy was coming home with treats, they found the strength to stay awake.”