Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I blinked.
Who was he talking to?
The door swung open, and I froze when he appeared in the empty space in the doorway.
Holding Winston.
“That’s my cat,” I said dumbly, staring at the stupid ball of silver and ginger fluff in his arms.
Max stared at me for a moment. “That’s a pie,” he replied.
“Why are you holding my cat?”
“Why are you holding a pie?”
“I think the cat might take precedence here.”
Winston trilled, a silly little “mrrrshp” noise.
Max’s lips twitched. “He climbed through the window and didn’t look like he was leaving. I thought you might like him back.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” I muttered, glaring at Winston.
“Now explain the pie?”
“And custard.”
“Pardon?”
“Apple pie and custard,” I said, holding it out. “Uh, your grandma forced me into it. Well, to be specific, she guilted me into going grocery shopping for her but had me buy all the pie stuff and then when I took it to her, I had to stay and help her bake this… Sorry. I’m rambling.”
Max fought back a smile. “Let me guess, it was all a ploy to make us talk?”
“I suspect that’s how Winston got into the library.”
“The window was suspiciously open,” he said slowly. “I think we can place this blame solely on her shoulders.”
“Oh, I was going to.”
He laughed quietly and put Winston down. My cat ran back into the house without a care in the world for us, and I shook my head at his swift disappearance.
“That cat is such a dick.”
Max’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yes, and can you take this pie? It’s flipping heavy.”
“Take it? I’m about to eat it all.” He relieved me of my load and turned away.
“Hey!” I stomped inside after him, pausing only to shut the door, and chased after him. “I baked it! You are not eating all of it!”
“Oh, come on. You baked it for me.”
“I was coerced,” I replied, walking into the kitchen. “It wasn’t by choice!”
He peered over at me with his bright blue eyes with an expression that said he didn’t believe me. “I’m sure.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. “If I were going to bake you anything, it would be a cream pie that I could shove in your face.”
Seriously, though.
That was getting pretty tempting.
If I hadn’t had to go through what I had dealing with Esme and her neighbourhood watch ways earlier, I’d have done it.
Shoved this one right in his gob.
“I’m sensing a bit of hostility,” Max muttered.
“Hostility? I’ll give you hostility!” I grabbed the tea towel from where it was hanging over the oven door and whipped his arm with it. “Three days, Max! It’s been three bloody days, and you didn’t reply to a single message I sent!”
“Ow, ow, ow!” He jumped back from my emphatic tea towel beatdown.
I wasn’t giving up now I’d gotten started.
“You just had to say you were okay! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I didn’t know what to do! I wanted to help you but you were being a big old baby and couldn’t even send me five measly characters by text to tell me you were all right!”
I went to whip the towel against him again, but he grabbed it and yanked on it, sending me stumbling towards him. I slammed into his body, and he pinned me against him with one strong arm, and I screamed into his chest with my eyes closed and my nose all smooshed against his breastbone.
“No!” I said, muffled. “You can’t just grab me. You said all that and left and I was worried about you, for fuck’s sake!”
He tugged on the towel, and I released my grip on it, letting him take it away.
“I know you needed space and I’m sorry if I’m being irrational but I knew how much that hurt you to speak and I just wanted to know that you were okay and that’s really selfish of me to ask such a thing of you in that situation but—”
“I’m sorry,” he said, softly cupping the back of my head. “Caring about me is not selfish of you, Ellie, and I owed you ten seconds of my time to tell you that I was okay.”
“You didn’t owe me it,” I whispered. “I just… wanted… to know.”
“And you had a right to know. I laid a heavy story on you.” He dipped his chin so his lips brushed across the top of my head. “I’m sorry for not communicating with you, Ellie, but I am grateful for the space you gave me even though it must have been difficult for you.”
“Max, can we talk about this properly?”
“Only if I can eat the pie out of the dish while we do. With warm custard.”
I pulled back and wrinkled up my nose. “I don’t like custard.”