Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Vivianne and I headed upstairs, and I walked her to her room. She stopped and turned to lean against the door.
“I guess this is good night.”
Smiling, I kissed her softly on the lips. “Good night.”
When I drew away, she had a dreamy look on her face, then her eyes went wide. “What should I wear riding?”
“Jeans and something warm, like a sweater. Did you bring your lightweight down?”
“I did.”
“I’d wear that. It’ll be more comfortable riding. Also, do you have any boots?”
“I have my ankle boots, the ones I love so much?”
Laughing, I ran a finger down the side of her beautiful face. “Those will be perfect. My mom should have an extra pair of riding gloves for you. They’ll keep your hands warm, but they’re made for riding.”
She nodded. “I’m excited!”
“I am as well.”
Letting out a long sigh, I pushed away and took a few steps back. “I should let you go in before I drag you to my room.”
She giggled. “As fun as that would be, except for the dragging part, I want to respect your parents’ rules.”
“So do I, that’s why I’m slowly backing away.”
She grinned. “Good night, Ladd.”
“’Night, Viv. I love you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I love you too.”
The next day, I woke up to the sun shining and blue skies. It was the perfect day to go riding. The smell of coffee and bacon wafted up the steps from the kitchen.
“Home,” I whispered as I sat up and swung my legs over the bed. There was nothing better than waking up and knowing you were home. And that your mother had made breakfast, which likely would include all the favorites.
After getting dressed, I headed downstairs and could hear the mumbled voices of whoever was in the kitchen with Mom. As I drew closer, I heard Vivianne chuckle at something my mother must have said.
“Good morning,” I greeted, as I entered the kitchen to see Mom and Vivianne drinking coffee. Mom was standing over the stove, stirring potatoes, while Vivianne leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen.
“Morning!” Vivianne said, setting her coffee down to walk over. She reached up and brushed a kiss to my lips before asking, “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Turning to my mother, I asked, “Can I help?”
“Will you please slice up some bread for toast?” she asked, and motioned with her head toward the freshly made bread.
“I can do that,” I confirmed as I took my coffee from Vivianne. After a sip, I set it down and got to work on the bread.
“Your mother said she’d teach me how to make bread,” Vivianne stated with a huge smile on her face.
“We’re also going to make my famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies,” Mom said with a wink in my direction.
I moaned. “Mom, you know I’m a sucker for those.”
“I know,” she laughed. “That’s why I’m going to show Vivianne my secret recipe.”
My mouth fell open mid-slice. “You’re going to show her, but you won’t show me? Your favorite son?”
“Favorite son?” David snorted as he walked into the kitchen and straight to the coffeepot. “I think not.”
“Mom’s going to show Viv how to make her oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.”
David stopped mid-pour. “Mom? Is that true? An outsider?”
“Outsider?” Vivianne pouted with mock hurt.
Mom rolled her eyes as she grabbed another bacon slice and put it in the pan. “She’s hardly an outsider. Besides, have either of you ever baked a thing in your life?”
I huffed. “Yes. You made us learn how to make bread. You taught me how to make your Oh My God Brownies.”
“Oh My God Brownies?” Vivianne laughed. “Why are they called that?”
David was stirring some sugar into his coffee when he looked up and smiled. “Because after the first bite, you say, ‘oh my God.’ No joke. Every single person I’ve ever seen take a bite of one says that. So Ladd renamed them a few years back to Oh My God Brownies.”
“Okay, Nellie, you’ll need to share that recipe with me as well.”
Mom laughed. “Trust me, sweetheart, starting tomorrow, you’ll get your fair share of baking when we start prepping for Christmas. David, would you mind being in charge of the eggs? Let’s keep it simple and make scrambled.”
“I can cook the eggs,” Vivianne said.
My mother held up a staying hand. “You, young lady, are a guest in this house. No guest of mine cooks—well, except for baking. Go sit your pretty little self down over at the table and supervise from there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied with a salute and a smile.
My father walked in and held up a jar. “Ran into Betty Townsend in town. She informed me Lisa’s trying to perfect her grandmother’s raspberry-plum jam. She said she’s getting close and shared a jar with me. Betty also told me to tell you to give Lisa a call, David. Something about Lisa going on and on about a promise to go see a movie when you came home from school?”