Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I glanced toward the tavern kitchen, where my chef was making hateful eyeballs at me.
“I’m sure she appreciated that,” I muttered while I continued tugging on the wrench to get a stubborn tank valve to open. “Now all she has to do is source about a hundred more tomatoes, and she’ll be able to serve more than two tables with it.”
“After he harvested the tomatoes, he made plans to take Pop fishing this morning,” she went on, still singing the praises of our erstwhile hero, Jonathan “Suckup” Wellbridge. “Honestly, Flynn, the way you boys talk about him, you’d think he was an ogre, but I’ve always said Frog has a particularly bright aura, especially for a Wellbridge.”
“Oh, he’s bright alright. More like crafty as a—fuck!” My wrench slipped and banged my other hand. Hard.
“Language, sweetheart,” she murmured, looking around at the half-full tavern. “You wouldn’t want to offend your customers, would you?”
I ignored her and rubbed at the sore spot on my hand. I held JT responsible for that injury.
Castor dropped off a tray of appetizers at a nearby table before swinging over to drop a kiss on Willow’s cheek. “You hungry? Want me to put in an order for you? We just got a huge to-go order, but I can get Kendall to make you something first.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest boy? No, thank you. I’m on a cleanse.”
“Who called in the to-go order?” I asked. Most people who needed larger orders placed them well in advance.
“JT did.” Castor’s eyes went all liquid and dreamy. “I’m guessing his family must’ve told him good things.”
“Patricia? Tell him good things about the Tavern?” I shook my head. “Never. Besides, Trent always lunches at the club, and Reagan probably drinks his lunch if the other night was any indication, so that just leaves JT himself. Give him fish sticks. There are still some in the freezer.”
Castor thought about it for a minute. “They’re hosting that other guy and his family, don’t forget. What’s his name? The pretty one. Ashley… Farnley… something-ly?”
“Brantleigh,” I grumbled, remembering the engagement rumor with a sour twist in my gut. Frog certainly hadn’t seemed engaged when he’d had his tongue down my throat yesterday, I thought with a vicious surge of something that absolutely wasn’t jealousy. “What did JT order? No, you know what? Never mind. I don’t care.” I shook out my throbbing hand and put my attention back on the stuck valve. “I’m working.”
Willow didn’t take the hint. “Anyway, I wanted to make sure you’re coming for dinner tonight, sweetheart. It’s Lily’s birthday, and we’re making something special.”
“Lily’s birthday?” It took me a minute to process the fact my mother had just invited me to a dog’s birthday dinner.
“Yes. And don’t bother getting her a deer antler because your brothers already went in together on one. Your father and I got her a hemp rope bone. Maybe stop by Paws and Claws and check out their new Pride line of collars and leashes. Moose would love that.”
Moose would love to be left alone was what Moose would love, but that was not the way the Honeycutt family rolled.
“I’ll figure something out,” I said. “I really need to get back to work now, if you don’t mind.”
“’Course not, baby. I’m off to parade my Box Day medallion in front of Patricia Wellbridge. Alden said she’s getting her nails done at the salon. I’m sure she’s brimming with excitement over my win.” She turned away with a bounce to her step, setting off the little bells on her wrist and ankles. Her colorful peasant skirt swung in an arc against the doorframe.
“Smug satisfaction doesn’t become you,” I called after her with a laugh. “There’s probably a tea blend for that!”
She swung her hips extra wide in response.
But after she left, I didn’t immediately get back to work. Instead, I found myself tapping the wrench against my palm and thinking about the man I’d been actively trying not to think about.
Strangely enough, I wasn’t worried that JT had been cheating on some society fiancé when he kissed me. I didn’t know JT that well anymore—and maybe not ever—but I didn’t believe he would have gotten engaged to another man and then kissed me savagely against the wall of my living room.
And it had been savage.
Beautifully so.
He’d manhandled me, shoving me with his arm and then clasping my face to hold it where he wanted it. His lips had been rough and hungry, and god… I’d wanted so fucking much. So much more from him.
Sometimes I thought I’d never get enough of him, even though I knew full well he wasn’t for me, and last night was the last time I’d be getting any of him at all.
When I found myself touching my own lips while I replayed the scene on a loop, I bit out a curse under my breath and forced myself to focus.