Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Mrs. Charles answers. “You shouldn’t be saying stuff about women and the kitchen even if you’re joking,” she chastises lightly.
“I was joking!” Frank says defensively.
Mrs. Charles merely shrugs, and Mr. Charles smirks. “You’re going to have to wash dishes for a month to make up for that.”
The two leave for a walk. Frank rolls up his sleeves. “It’s you that’s causing all the trouble.” He grumbles. Doing dishes is nothing compared to other shit we’ve had to do. I’m more than happy to help. That’s the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Bet Emma would taste better. Fuck. I shove that thought away.
“Me? I’m not the one that was talking like a caveman,” I point out. This might be why he’s having so many problems with this Melody woman.
“Suck up,” he mutters under his breath.
“You wash. I’ll dry.” I’m whistling as we get to work. Despite Frank’s earlier comment about the kitchen being a woman’s job, we’re done quickly.
“Should we go for a drink?” he suggests.
“Sounds good.” I’m dying to ask where he thinks Emma is, but since she’s supposed to be off limits, I suspect he won’t answer. She lives here, though, so she’s got to come home sometime. Not that I’ll be waiting up for her. “I can’t remember, but did you say there was only the one bar in town?” I say casually.
“What town has only one bar? Why, you don’t like Tom’s place?”
We tie our boots on. “Tom’s place is good.”
“We could try Vanity. They’ve got a small dance floor, but I’m not dancing,” he warns.
I grab his F1 keys off the hook on the wall and toss them to him. “I’ve no interest in dancing either.” But would Emma? I wish I’d gotten a look at her before she disappeared from the house. Had she been wearing a dress or jeans? I guess she could dance in jeans. Her ass looks good molded by the denim. Her apple bottom would be a good, juicy fit in my palms. “Actually, dancing doesn’t sound so bad. Is that where the women would go?”
Frank cocks his head. “Why do I feel like you’ve got some ulterior motive?”
I try to look as innocent as possible. “I’m throwing out ideas, man.”
He guns the engine. “We’ll go to Tom’s and if Mel—I mean, if it’s dead, we’ll move on.”
I sit back in my seat and hide my smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
Tom’s is packed when we arrive. I scan the crowd for the bright head and come up with nothing. We’ve barely got two feet inside the joint, and I’m ready to leave. The locals have other plans.
One dude, about six feet with a pot belly and ruddy skin, either from the sun or too much booze, ambles over. He pulls up his trucker hat, smooths back his hair and resettles his cap. “Biscuit Charles. Didn't realize you’d come home. You get kicked out? I read that they were phasing out your position.”
Frank folds his arms across his chest. “Keeping tabs on me like the fan you are, Blake?”
“Just want to know where my taxpayer dollars are going, and it looks like they’re wasted on the two of you. Drones are the future.” He tips the bottle back. Frank’s fingers twitch, and I know he’s dying to hit the bottom of the bottle. It’s a good way to crack teeth, and if there’s anybody who needs that, it’s this Blake person.
“The future isn’t here yet.” I point out to the dumb fuck.
“This the one who flies your plane?” Blake squints at me. “Emma’s right. You’ve got a mean look to you.”
“Emma’s here?” I ask. That’s all that interests me.
“Right over there.” He points over his shoulder. The crowd parts enough that I catch a glimpse of my girl—I mean, Frank’s sister, sitting with Melody.
Frank catches sight of Melody and stiffens. I nudge him with my shoulder. “Make your move.”
I’m being a good wingman tonight because Frank’s my bro, not because if he’s distracted by Melody, I can find out why Emma has suddenly gone cold on me. Nothing like that at all.
CHAPTER 6
EMMA
I catch sight of my brother and Vincent the second they walk into the bar. They tower over everyone, making them hard to miss. What the hell? I’d left that house to get away from them and cheer my friend up. Biscuit isn’t going to help with that either if he’s here. I’m sure he’s the last person Melody wants to see.
“They’re here,” I say, covering my mouth with my drink. Melody stiffens beside me. “We can go somewhere else if you want.” I toss out the option to her.
She tilts her head to steal a glance over at the two of them. They’re talking to Blake. Great, if they become friends with him, I’ll junk punch both of them.