Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“How could I be offended, Damaris? You are being way too kind to me.”
“I’ve never walked in this house and heard the washing machine running. I think I owe you one.”
I laugh.
She puts a hand in the air. “I’ll be back.”
“Okay.”
She disappears around the corner, and I sit on the bed. My heart races. What is happening here?
This family is unreal. How are they all so nice? And sweet? And thoughtful?
It makes sense that Ashley married into this family without a second thought. Damaris reminds me of Gretchen in the very best of ways.
I grin. And then there’s Banks. Kind, sexy Banks.
I’m not an asshole. No, Banks, you aren’t. And that’s a bigger problem than I think I realized.
My palms sweat.
“I found the bowl,” Damaris shouts from the kitchen. “If you talk to Banks, tell him he owes me a day of lawn work for lying to me.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
The back door snaps closed.
14
Banks
“Don’t you look gorgeous today.” I kiss Gloria on the cheek and then sit across from her. “Sorry I’m running late and couldn’t pick you up. Eddie is on vacation this week, and I didn’t remember. It’s been a bit of a madhouse.”
And I’ve been distracted as fuck.
She pats my hand. “I would sit here all day if there was a chance that you would show up. It’s not common that an old lady like me gets a young stud to take her out to lunch once a week.”
I chuckle. “Stop calling yourself old. It makes me feel weird.”
She cackles.
The windows are open at Muggers, letting the sea breeze flow through. It’s Gloria’s favorite place for lunch when the weather isn’t too hot, and we can avoid the peak rush time. She usually likes to sit at the bar that points toward the ocean. But today she’s chosen a seat in the dining area.
Whatever floats her boat.
“Have you ordered?” I ask her.
“Just a lemonade. I was waiting for you.”
“Such a lady.”
She pats my hand again before withdrawing hers.
Our friendship is slightly odd, and I’m sure half the people who see us think either she’s my grandma or I’m dating her for her money. Neither are true. She’s just an ornery lady who answered the Golden Years Dating ad. I can be a squirrel and help you bust a nut.
I snort.
“What?” she asks.
“I was just thinking about the message you sent me through the app.”
She laughs. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”
“Has that ever worked on someone?”
“Oh, hell no. Men my age don’t know what to do with women who know what they want. But I’m not on that app to really find myself someone, you know? I’m just on there to entertain, to break up the day. And it’s good for a few laughs too.”
Becca comes to the table with a notepad in her hand. “Hey, you two. How are you?”
“We’re good,” Gloria says. “I’ll have a BLT with no mayo.” She looks at me. “The stuff tastes like puss mixed with paint.”
“Ew,” Becca says, wrinkling her nose.
“Well, mayo is out of the question now,” I say. “I’ll have a chicken sandwich with pickles. And a sweet tea.”
“Fries good for you both?” she asks.
We nod.
Instead of going to the kitchen, Becca lingers.
“You okay, Bec?” I ask.
“Just wondering how you’ve been.” She grins. “Innocently, of course.”
“Uh-huh.” I laugh. “Things have been tense, but we’re both still alive.”
Her grin turns into a smile as she walks away.
Gloria taps on the tabletop. “What was that about?”
I sit back in my chair and stretch my legs. I’m not sure if they ache from crouching under a car all morning or from the sexual energy stored up from last night.
Dammit anyway.
Gloria waits impatiently for me to explain myself.
“Becca’s friend, Sara, is staying at my house for a little while,” I say.
Her painted-on brows lift to the ceiling. “Is that so?”
“That is so.”
“Oh, well—tell me about her. Is she a little hottie?”
I laugh. “Yes, she is a little hottie. Not nearly as hot as you, but she’s okay.”
She puffs her hair with her right hand. “Of course she’s not as hot as I am.”
My smile grows.
“Are you banging her?” she asks.
I shake my head and chuckle.
“Well, are ya? I need to know.”
“Why do you need to know?” I ask.
“Because it’ll mess up my fantasies at night.” She winks. “I’m kidding. I don’t need to know, but I want to know. I want you to find a nice girl. You deserve one.”
“Damn right, I deserve one. But I don’t know if this is the one.”
She flinches. “Why not? What’s wrong with her?”
“Gloria, believe it or not, I’m not sure she wants me.”
“Rubbish.”
I laugh and take my drink from Becca. I wait for her to leave before resuming my conversation with my friend. Becca’s not one to gossip, but it would be hard to resist telling Sara that the great Banks Carmichael is getting dating advice from a senior citizen.