Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“You cold? Want me to get you a hoodie?”
If he only knew. “No. Quite the opposite.” His eyes dilate. “But! That’s a problem for another time. Ready?” The way his lips twitch, there’s no doubt he wants to throttle me. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, saving me. I retrieve it and see an unknown number. “Hello? Hello?” The line goes dead.
“Who was it?”
“My secret lover wanting to know if I’ve gotten rid of you yet.” The way his jaw clenches is an automatic panty-drencher. “I’m kidding, Tarzan. It was no one. They hung up.” Like I said, his dominant side sure suits him.
We manage to get out of the house without any funny business. The ride over to his mom’s is quiet but nice. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been at ease like this. I’ve carried so much weight on my shoulders. Childhood trauma. My marriage. Packing my things and moving away from a place I used to call home. I never imagined my life taking this turn. And I can’t help but smile at where I’ve ended up.
I peer over at Ben. He looks at peace, his smile carefree. I take in our connected hands. Such a simple gesture, yet it creates a whirlwind of butterflies inside my belly. I haven’t felt this way in such a long time, I forgot that happy feels. . . good.
“What’s your mom like?” I ask, breaking the silence.
He looks over at me, then back to the road. “She’s. . . a lot of things.”
“What does that mean?”
He inhales, releasing a deep breath. “She’s lost a lot. And that hangs over her. Before my dad died, she was such a light in our house. She could turn any bad situation into good. And she loved to bake. Was obsessed with it. There was always fresh pie or pastries on our counter. She had a sense of humor too. If you ever wanted to know where I got my pranks from, it’s her. She would pull stuff on my dad all the time. And, God, her laugh. She would go on for hours. She thought she was the smoothest prankster in town.” He pauses, focusing on the road.
“You’re making it sound like she died.”
“In a way, she did. I haven’t seen that person in a long time.”
He doesn’t say anything more. And I don’t push him. A shadow passes over his features, and I feel a pang of regret at bringing it up. I squeeze his hand and spend the remainder of the ride staring out the window. When we pull into the neighborhood, it dawns on me.
“Wait. This is where you live?”
“Lived. I’m a big boy now and have my own place.”
“You know what I mean. This neighborhood connects to mine.”
“I know.” He pulls into the driveway of a simple two-story ranch house.
“I didn’t know we lived so close to each other growing up.”
He turns my way. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Without saying anything more, he gets out. I follow, my nerves setting in as we head up the walkway to the front door. What if his mom doesn’t like me? I look over myself in a panic. “Is this dress too short?”
“What? No, it’s fine. Not short enough—”
“I’m serious! What if your mom thinks I’m a hussy? I should have worn pants.”
Ben stops and cups my cheek. “She’s going to take one look at you and think you’re beautiful, intelligent, and then ask what the hell you’re doing with me. Stop worrying.”
Easy for him to say. Okay. Just smile, be polite, and compliment her outfit and décor. Got it. He walks up to the door and taps three knocks before letting himself in.
“Mom?” he calls out. No one answers. “She’s probably out back in the garden.” I follow him through the quaint house. Pictures of Ben line the walls. Different stages of his childhood. His bad haircuts. His tough-guy expression. I halt at a picture. His hair sticking up—
“Nuh-uh. Keep walkin’.”
He grabs my bicep and moves me along. “Wait! I wanted to look at those.”
“Too bad. We’re not here to look at those.”
That’s a shame. He sure made an adorable kid. He opens the back screen door, and I spot a little woman kneeling and digging in the dirt.
“Hey, Mom.” She picks her nose up from the pot. Her smile barely reaches her eyes at his presence. “I thought you just replanted these the other week.”
“Well, they didn’t look right. What’s it to you?” she snaps, her eyes darting to me next to him. She fumbles with the trowel in her hand. Blinking rapidly, she nods at me. “What are you up to? Did you kidnap her?”
Ben looks over at me, then back to his mom. “Who? Makayla? Why would I kidnap her?”
“There’s no way someone as pretty as her came willingly with you. Honey, are you in trouble?”