Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“In fact, you remind me of her. Fiercely loyal. Openly ambitious. Understanding the important things in life. Always seeking balance of what fulfills you, and what those in your life need from you.”
“She seems so cool,” I said quietly, mindful of his change in mood, “that might be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.”
“She is very cool,” he muttered distractedly.
“You went somewhere,” I noted cautiously. “Care to tell me where you are?”
He cleared his face, rubbed my arm again, and assured, “I’m right here with you, baby. I’ve got you back with me, where else would I be?”
He’d been somewhere.
But that wasn’t for me.
I tamped down my disappointment and reached up to kiss him.
Thus commenced us making out in his bucket chair, and joy of joys, no need to muck about when he finally planted me on his cock and made me fuck him there.
And after we finished, went inside, cleaned up, prepared for bed, then cuddled together in it with the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and the moon shining in the windows, all I could think was one thing.
I missed him.
I had him back.
It was the perfect reunion.
But he was still withholding from me.
CHAPTER 20
MOMMING
Elsa
“Okay, consider yourself warned. I’m one hundred percent on a mission to steal him from you. I mean, homemade tortillas?” Carole announced, sitting at a stool, watching Hale flip a tortilla on a skillet, a tortilla that, yes, he’d just rolled out.
“I love you like a sister, but I’ll cut a bitch for my guy,” I retorted.
“I’ll bleed for fresh tortillas,” she returned.
“I’ll make you fresh tortillas whenever you want,” Hale offered.
“Don’t think I won’t take you up on that,” Carole threatened.
Hale saluted Carole with his tongs.
As this happened, I chanced a glance at the great Imogen Swan, who was absolutely Genny in that kitchen, flitting about, helping Hale with his fish tacos and vinegary coleslaw, macerated onions and lime crema, homemade salsa, avocado slices (etc.). But who was now expertly manning the frying pieces of fish at the same time sprucing up the rice with minced cilantro and fresh bits of jalapeño.
Hale thankfully did not make a flan for dessert.
But the man was going to serve fried ice cream.
And he’d made homemade ice cream.
If Carole thought she was going to steal him already, I figured her words would ring truer after the ice cream. I knew this and I’d never even had Hale’s homemade ice cream.
But, unlike Hale assured me the night before, although Genny was polite, she was also standoffish.
To me.
To everyone else, she was lovely.
But she did not like me.
Nugget of news: Imogen Swan was totally momming me. I was not good enough for her boy until I proved I was, and that proof would come…never. Her boy was so special, he’d never meet the right girl.
Definitely not me.
It didn’t help that I was enjoying my margarita, and except when Hale asked or I could dip in and grab something to clean or wipe down or put away to help keep things tidy, I didn’t do anything.
Then again, she’d claimed the kitchen (and Hale, not incidentally) about a nanosecond after she was introduced to everyone.
Point made.
Immediately.
Duncan was keeping his distance from the cooking, if not my peeps.
He seemed like a really nice guy.
Now I looked to him and saw he was watching me. When we caught eyes, he tipped his head to the side. I must not have been hiding my chagrin, because he winked encouragingly at me.
Yes, Duncan Holloway was a nice guy.
It was just Genny who didn’t like me.
This didn’t bode well for the interview we were filming in two days.
I gave Duncan an awkward smile and sucked back more margarita.
“We need a west coast studio that I run,” Chuck said from his place at the wall of windows that faced the ocean. “I might have to sell a kidney, and a lung, to afford beachfront property, but it wouldn’t suck, having that as a view to look at every day. Karen would love it. She’s getting fed up with the city.”
My eyes raced to Hale to find his on me.
A west coast studio.
Chuck might just be talking, but this was not a bad idea.
“New York doesn’t hurt for celebs for you to interview, but I ran into three just on the way to the pool today,” Fliss said. “By the way, Malcolm Tavistock is super short. Like, teeny.”
Genny snorted.
“Really?” I asked after the aging action star.
Fliss nodded. “And he wears Speedos.”
She gave a fake shudder.
I laughed.
“He’s definitely got a Napoleon complex, he—” Genny cut herself off.
There was an awkward beat, then under his breath, Hale said, “You can talk in front of Elsa.”
Genny made no reply, just took some fish out of the oil.
Hale’s face got tight.
But I realized one issue we were having.
Genny didn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut.