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)
“Hey, if you’re okay with a bunch of dead people twenty feet from your back door, I’m thrilled for you.” I kiss June’s cheek and take her hand in mine. “How can we help?”
“I might need ideas for design stuff. And I could definitely use some art for the walls.”
“You don’t even have to ask,” I assure her.
“Can I point out one tiny, little detail?” Luna asks.
“Sure,” June and I reply in unison.
“Um, when you’ve moved in, and you bring a guy here, you’re going to be having sex in a church.”
The three of us share a look and then dissolve into giggles at the thought.
“I mean, Lucas Bradford and I did a lot of things in youth group back in the day,” June says thoughtfully. “But that was a different building.”
“Have you told Annabelle yet?” I ask her.
“That I was totally inappropriate with Lucas? Hell no, I didn’t tell her. Although, she probably knew.”
“No, about the church.”
“I wanted to show you guys first.”
“You said you’ve had your eye on it for a while?” Luna tilts her head to the side. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s sat empty for a few years. Not long enough to do a lot of damage, and yes, I checked for mold, but it sat for a little while. And every time I drive by, I think to myself, I could make that into the cutest house. Well, it finally came up for sale, so I snatched it up.”
“It’s an awesome idea.” I turn in a circle once more. “Please tell me you’ll keep the bell in the bell tower, and we can ring it anytime we want.”
“Hell yes, the bell is staying.”
“Awesome. Oh, and speaking of sex, Tanner and I are. Having sex, that is.”
There’s silence for a full ten seconds, and when I turn back to them, they’re staring at me with their mouths hanging open.
“Is it really that shocking? We never could keep our hands off each other.”
“It’s…unexpected,” June says. “But no, not surprising. Good for him.”
“Hey, good for him?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s wanted to jump all over you since the day he saw you standing in my driveway,” Luna says with a grin. “The man has the patience of Job.”
“Huh. How did I not know that?”
“You’ve had a lot going on, honey,” Luna replies. “Well, we have some fun things happening, ladies. New jobs and weddings and houses and sex.”
“I wish I were having the sex,” June mutters darkly. “Huckleberry Bay is way too small. There’s no one here I want to fuck.”
Luna and I exchange a knowing look.
“Right. No one at all.”
June scowls. “Shut up.”
January 5, 2008
* * *
Dear Diary,
I think I met the man I’m going to marry. Yes, that sounds dramatic, but I don’t care. His name is Anthony. He started out as a customer at the diner, and he always asks to sit in my section. He’s been coming in for two weeks straight. He doesn’t live here—he was here on vacation—but he says he’s extended his stay just so he can see me.
We’ve been seeing each other every day.
He’s so nice! And so what if he’s older than me? I mean, sure, he’s in his thirties, but I’m mature for my age, and Anthony says that age is just a number. I mean, I AM an adult of nineteen! I’m not a baby.
Anthony is just what I need.
TTYL,
Sarah
Chapter Eight
Tanner
“I’ll be right back,” I inform Wayne, and close the door of the gallery behind me. It’s been a slow morning, and I need coffee.
Over the past week, since Sarah and I started sleeping together, I haven’t been getting much actual sleep. But I’d have to be a complete madman to complain.
Because it’s not a simple case of insomnia or stress that’s keeping me up at night.
It’s a beautiful woman that I can’t keep my hands off of.
Sarah insists that she should still sleep in her little house, and she’s moved Petunia back over, as well.
But we end up in either my bed, or hers, every single night.
No, I’m not complaining, but I’d rather she just moved in with me. I don’t even need the income from the guesthouse, so if she wants to use it as a studio, I’m fine with that. I’ve almost suggested it a dozen times this week.
But it still feels too soon, and the last thing I want to do is scare her off.
I wave at Montana, who’s just setting out her menu board on the sidewalk for the day before I walk into The Grind.
The smell of coffee immediately consumes my senses, and I sigh in delight. Daisy, the owner herself, is manning the order station with a smile.
“Good morning, Tanner,” she says. “What can I get you? Your usual?”
“Yes, please. And let’s add a scone today. I’m surprised you still have some left.”
“You got it. How’s business?”