Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“You barely got anything,” I argued. “You need the fuel. Eat.”
“I don’t remember you being this bossy before,” she said.
The words dropped like a cannon ball between us. From the minute I’d seen her again, we’d carefully and deliberately skirted around what we’d been before. Beyond her teasing me about my muscles, which had been light, we hadn’t gone there. Honestly, I’d wondered how long we could maintain it. There was just too much shit between us to ignore, too much history, too many hurts.
“I’ve always been bossy,” I said, moving my attention back to my own plate. “Part of my charm.”
“Charm?” Lu asked, sitting down across from us. “You’ve never been charming. Intelligent, yes. Handsome, yes. Hell on wheels with a rifle in your hand, definitely. But charming? Nope.”
“I’m not even sure if that was an insult or a compliment,” I replied honestly.
“Just take it as one,” Eli said as he dropped down in the chair beside her. “That’s what I always do.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” Lu asked.
“Pretty well, actually,” he replied, stuffing an entire piece of garlic bread in his mouth.
“You’re a Neanderthal,” Wilson said as he sat down with us. “At least chew before you attempt to swallow that.”
“This table is great,” Farrah said as she sat down on the opposite side of Cec. “We need one of these at our house. It fits everyone!”
“We don’t have room for a table the size of a yacht, Ladybug,” Casper told her as he took the seat next to her.
“Well, we should make the space.”
“All our kids are outta the house but one,” he said easily. “I’m sure as shit not addin’ onto the place.”
“We’ll see,” Farrah mused.
“You get pregnant and I’m movin’ out,” he muttered, making Farrah laugh.
“If I get pregnant at my age, we’re calling the news because it’s a goddamn miracle,” Farrah cackled. “And we’re naming the baby Jesus.”
“I like you,” Lu said, pointing at Farrah across the table.
“Back atcha, honey,” Farrah said easily. “And I’d love to get my hands in your hair.”
“Say what?” Lu asked as Cecilia started to giggle beside me.
“It’s gorgeous, but you’re doing yourself no favors by pulling it back so tight,” Farrah said. “By the size of your bun, I bet it’s super long. Am I right?”
“Jesus,” Cecilia whispered in embarrassment.
“Wait,” Eli said, laughing. “Is she talking about your hair or your ass? I have noticed your buns are—”
“Finish that sentence and die, dipshit,” Lu replied, pointing her fork at Eli. She looked back at Farrah. “It’s down to my waist.”
“Oh, nice,” Farrah said.
“I’ve just gotten used to keeping it back for work. Can’t do my job if my hair’s flying everywhere.”
“You’ll have to show it to me after dinner,” Farrah said loftily. “And if nothing else, let me give you a trim. It really is gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” Lu said happily.
“You’d never know that my mother used to be the asshole in the Callie-and-Farrah duo,” Cecilia said to me out of the side of her mouth. “I wonder if it’s old age?”
“I heard that,” Farrah said.
I laughed.
The situation we were in sucked. I’d finally got a handle on shit, and I felt like I was making decisions and thinking things over with a clear head now, but it didn’t really make things any easier. I was still in close proximity to Cecilia. Still dealing with the mess she’d gotten herself into. Still spinning my wheels trying to figure out how to fix it. On top of all that, she was still so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her and I was seeing her tits on an almost hourly basis when she fed Olive.
But even with all that, it felt kinda good to sit around the table with people from my past and friends from the present. Weird, yeah, but good. For years after I’d left Oregon, I’d missed the sounds and the feel of the big gatherings they’d have at the clubhouse. Even when there wasn’t an event, I could’ve shown up at any time and had a group of people to hang with. It was impossible to replicate, but I’d found something close with my team. Dinner that night was like the best of both worlds, even if there was a shitstorm gathering outside.
“God,” Cecilia said as conversation at the table flowed around us. “This is the worst possible time to feel like crap.”
“Did you get the uh, clog taken care of?”
“Nope,” she said, leaning back in her chair. She raised a hand to the baby she’d somehow strapped to herself with the carrier. “I had to nurse her on my hands and knees, with my boobs just dangling there.”
“Now, that I’d like to see,” I said with a chuckle.
“Oh, I bet.” She rolled her eyes.
Suddenly, I was transported to the past, Cecilia staring up at me.