Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“It’s okay,” she says and bites into her burger. “I can swing back by later and pick you up.”
June’s been nice enough to drive me to and from work for each of my shifts. Annabelle’s house is a couple of miles outside of town, and although I could walk, it’s been nice that I don’t have to.
I’m on my feet all day as it is.
“Honey, you need to go home,” Sunny says as I put in another order. “This is your third double shift in a row. I’ve got this covered until Willow gets here.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone when we’re busy,” I reply. “Yeah, we’re a diner, and these people are supposed to clean up after themselves, but most don’t. And we’re short-staffed. Not to mention, I can use the money.”
“It’s only one hour until Willow gets here. I’ve been working this job for more than twenty years, so trust me when I say, I’ve got this. Go rest up.”
I sigh, feeling the exhaustion in my bones. It really has been a long, busy week.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Go. And take tomorrow off, too. We’ll have plenty of help.”
“A day off?” I blink at her. “What shall I do with all that free time?”
“Smartass.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I sure do like you.”
I hurry back to the break room to grab my purse from my locker and then rush back out to June with visions of an early night dancing in my head.
There should be time for bathroom fixing and wine with my cat, Petunia.
“Let’s blow this joint,” I announce to June, who’s in the middle of a conversation with Tanner Hilleman.
My high school sweetheart.
The man that still haunts my dreams.
He looks my way, his green eyes dancing as he takes me in, and a slow smile spreads over his impossibly gorgeous mouth.
And I remember vividly what the man is capable of doing with that mouth.
Clearing my throat, I offer him a smile, then tap June’s shoulder.
“Ready?” I ask her. “I’ve been sprung a little early.”
“Sure, but first, I’d like to chat for a few minutes with Tanner. He’s telling me about how his aunt down in Newport is having her kitchen redone, and it’s been a total disaster.”
My heart sinks, but I do my best to keep my smile in place. I just really want to go home. And while Tanner and I have an amicable relationship, it’s still uncomfortable to be around him for very long.
It’s just damn awkward.
But June is my ride, so I sit next to her and quietly listen to the story of Tanner’s aunt. I liked Aunt Becky a lot when we were dating. She was always very kind to me.
I check my watch and sigh, and June’s gaze turns my way.
“You okay, Sarah?”
“Sure.”
“I think she’s tired,” Tanner replies and stands. “I’ve kept you long enough. I’ll be sure to keep you posted on all of Aunt Becky’s kitchen mishaps. Have a good evening, ladies.”
He nods and leaves, and I immediately stand.
“You know, I could go for a milkshake to go,” June says. “I mean, sure, I shouldn’t because that’s a lot of calories, but I’ve been busting my ass lately.”
“June, I’m going to say this in the nicest way possible. Please, for the love of all that’s holy in this universe, take me the hell home.”
“Oh, sure. Hey, I’m sorry. Let’s go.”
We walk out to June’s truck, and I sigh in relief when I sit in the seat.
“You’ve had a long week, haven’t you?” June asks.
“Yeah, a lot of hours at the diner. But, I’m grateful for the job, so I won’t complain. Sunny just gave me tomorrow off.”
“Awesome. You should—”
“Nope.”
She glances my way as she turns to drive up the hill to her grandmother’s house. “Huh?”
“I shouldn’t do anything except sleep late, go walk the beach, snuggle Petunia, and write in my journal. Maybe paint a little.”
“So, I shouldn’t ask you to help me with garden prep, then?”
I wince and look out the passenger window. “Please don’t.”
“You deserve a day of rest and pampering,” June says, patting my leg. “I totally get it. I’m just too antsy for those days, so it never occurs to me, you know?”
“I know. I really need a quiet day.”
“Then a quiet day you shall have.”
She parks in her spot near the house, and my feet ache as I slide out of the truck onto the gravel below.
You would think that after six months or so of constantly being on my feet, they’d be used to it by now, but they’re not.
“I need to soak my feet,” I mutter and hobble my way up the steps to the front door.
“You need better shoes, too,” June says as she opens the door, and we walk inside.
She’s not wrong, I likely do need better footwear, but I’ve been hoarding my money away so I can rent a place to live.