Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
“Just pink,” she whispered.
“I’ll take pink camo,” Raye said.
“Do they have them in orange?” Luna asked.
“Fuck if I know,” Tex answered. “I’ll look. Second choice?”
“Camo, any camo, just not pink,” Luna told him.
Tex looked at me.
“Black,” I said.
He grinned.
I couldn’t tell if his grin was slightly terrifying, mostly lovable, or slightly lovable and mostly terrifying.
He trundled out from behind the bar before I could decide.
Raye closed in. “After our shifts, Luna and me will scout locations to see if we can find someplace where we can watch without people who might be watching the camp knowing we’re watching.”
That was kinda confusing, but I got her.
“Rad,” I said.
“We’ll reconvene tomorrow to figure out schedules,” Raye went on.
“Awesome,” Luna said.
Raye put her hand in the middle of our huddle.
Luna put hers on top.
I put mine on top of theirs.
Harlow came up the rear.
“Angels unite,” Harlow whispered excitedly.
I fought rolling my eyes.
We bounced our hands and broke.
“You women done with whatever the hell you’re up to now?” Byron asked from the other side of the bar.
“Dirty chai refill?” I asked back.
He gave me a Duh! expression and headed back to his booth.
I hit the espresso machine.
SIXTEEN
QUIET NIGHT
That evening after work, I came in my apartment door, saw Eric in my kitchen slicing mushrooms, and suddenly understood why many women hankered after that white dress and big cake day.
If this vision before me was what I got for a lifetime after going through those motions, I’d put up with all the overblown hoopla to get it.
That said, I was me so I had to shovel shit.
“What? Did you pick the locks?”
He smiled at me.
That hoopla was looking better.
Then he answered, “Yup.”
Fascinating.
Though, mental note. Give the guy a key.
“You found truffle butter,” he said as I closed the door behind me.
“I totally did,” I replied.
I tossed my bag on the couch and went to him.
He twisted from the counter, but not fully, though he did fully circle me with his arm, pull me up against his side and drop down to give me a quick kiss.
Oh yeah.
Official.
I’d go through that hoopla.
When he lifted away, he said, “I know you wanted to cook, but I haven’t eaten since lunch, so I got started.”
Since I hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it was after seven, I was glad he got a head start.
I looked down at my cutting board that had some chopped chives and a bunch of sliced mushrooms on it.
I returned my gaze to him. “You know I’m already good at the slicing and chopping parts. I want to get into the meaty stuff.”
“Then hurry, honey, your man is hungry.”
“Can you wait two point five minutes for me to change clothes?”
“Absolutely.”
I smiled, rolled up for my own lip touch then dashed to my room to switch out from the clothes I worked in all day to a pair of black wide-leg lounge pants with a white racing stripe down the side and a tight white tank. That accomplished, I pulled my long hair up into a messy bun.
When I came back out, Eric sent a glance my way, almost turned back to the mushrooms but instead did a double take.
Yeah, I had nice arms, a nice ass, and I rocked a lounge outfit.
But I especially rocked a tank.
Seemed someone was feeling his have-sex-for-the-first-time-with-your-new-hot-chick vibe.
I smirked.
“If you ever call me a tease again, I’m shooting you,” he muttered to mushrooms.
I smirked harder.
Then I clapped my hands and said, “Let’s get this puppy going.”
I moved to the Barefoot Contessa cookbook I’d bought at the bookstore a couple of days ago to start my new hobby. It was where I left it, on the kitchen counter, opened to the recipe.
And that was when I saw the box with a flier resting on top of it, sitting on the counter next to the cookbook.
“Did you grab my packages from downstairs?” I asked.
“No. All of that was on your mat at your door. I just brought it in.”
That was weird.
Was our postal chick delivering right to the door now?
“I didn’t order anything. Can you hold another minute while I look at this?” I requested.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll get the pasta water going.”
That wasn’t a meaty part of the recipe (in truth, this recipe wasn’t hard, and there were only nine ingredients, two of them salt and pepper, so this wasn’t the spectacle the pastitsio was, but it sounded yummy), so I let him have at it.
I grabbed the flier, turned it over and saw:
Oasis Holiday Extravaganza!!!!!!!!!
When: December 12, starting at 7:00 p.m.
Where: Oasis Courtyard
What: Glitter and Potluck
Dress: Get your holiday on!
(We’re dressing up.)
RSVP: Bill and Zach
Fill out the OASIS HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA!!!!!!!! Google form sent to your email to share what you’re bringing (Raye, your only acceptable contribution is your pudding, Jess, you’re on a signature cocktail, make it a good one!)
Anyone coming must give Bill or Zach $20 by