Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“False modesty doesn’t suit you at all, Lizzy-bit,” Gideon said. He was leaning against a kitchen counter, legs crossed, eyes intent. He took a sip from the beer he had swiped out of the fridge. “I’m sure you made the world’s best potato salad, because everything you do is perfect, right?”
“Gideon, shut up, man,” Cam muttered, squeezing the nape of his neck tiredly. He slanted Gideon a warning glare.
“Seriously, don’t start this bullshit, guys,” Cat warned. “Can’t we have one nice evening?”
“Hey, I haven’t done anything,” Beth protested. She would not take the flack for Gideon’s assholery.
“I was just saying, Elizabeth Finch can do no wrong, and I’m sure her potato salad will be the stuff of legends. It’s a compliment,” Gideon said.
“You can keep your backhanded compliments,” Beth said, folding her arms tightly over her chest.
“Why don’t I just give it a quick taste test?” he suggested with an insufferable grin, grabbing up a spoon from the drying rack on the kitchen sink. He popped the lid of the Tupperware container and had a heaped spoonful of her salad lifted to his lips before she could blink.
“No, don’t.”
Her protest came too late, and she watched helplessly as he shoved the salad into his mouth and chewed.
The smug expression on his face froze and it would have been comical if it hadn’t been so damned mortifying. Beth swallowed back a moan when she heard a crunch as he chewed.
She covered her face with her hands but peeked through her fingers as his jaw worked, while he manfully continued to chew and then—God—swallow.
“Uh, that was—”
“Just shut up, Gideon,” she whispered. A world of weariness in her words.
“Lizzy, I thought—”
She held up a hand to stop whatever he’d been about to say. “Please not another word.”
“It tastes really great,” he persisted. “It’s just a little… crunchy.”
The bit she had taste tested at home had been slightly undercooked, but still edible. She should’ve considered the possibility that there could be larger, even…rawer potatoes in the mix.
“Beth,” Cat said softly. “We have plenty of other food, if you’d rather we didn’t serve it, that’s fine.”
“It’s puh-probably best if you didn’t,” Beth said, a frog lodged in her throat. She was stupidly emotional all over again. Her nose was burning and her eyes felt hot and dry as she fought to keep her tears at bay. Her lips started to quiver and she pinched them hard between her teeth, trying to get her feelings under control. She kept her gaze determinedly averted from Gideon, who had wisely shut up.
It was Cam’s birthday. Beth would get through this evening with bright smiles and good humor if it killed her. She would tolerate Gideon’s snide comments, and she’d put everything that had happened between them over the last twenty-four hours out of mind. Then tomorrow she would lock herself in her house, finally process her emotions, and cry her eyes out.
“Can I help with anything?” she asked, her voice a weird combination of a squeak and a growl.
“Take those chips out onto the patio and just relax,” Cat replied with a sympathetic smile. “Everything’s in hand.”
Beth nodded and reached for the two large bowls of potato chips on the island. There were already people out on the patio, she could hear the lighthearted chatter and laughter. Eager for a distraction, she turned toward the closed sliding doors.
“Let me get that for you,” Gideon’s voice came from just behind her but she refused to react to his unexpected closeness. Instead, she stood quietly when he stepped around her to slide the door open, allowing her access to the patio.
It was a lovely mid-February evening. The warm, soft summer air smelled of wood smoke, lavender, and sweet peas. Insects were chirping, droning, and buzzing in Cat’s lush garden. It was a cozy retreat that housed a modest swimming pool, and a built-in barbeque. They’d already spent so many happy summer evenings out here, talking and laughing.
Beth had been looking forward to this for weeks. She just hadn’t expected it to be preceded by a tragic loss, and a colossal personal mistake.
She pasted a smile on her lips, ignoring the way everybody happily greeted Gideon. They knew her as well, of course, but the greetings coming her way were an afterthought compared to the effusive welcome Good Ole Gideon was getting.
She sighed and carefully placed the bowls on the patio table.
“Thanks, Beth,” Duduzane Albright-Nyathi, Cat’s work husband said, reaching for a handful of chips. His lovely wife, Cynthia, was draped across his lap. She was always so relaxed and ultra-cool. She worked for an up-and-coming high end fashion magazine. And—with her braided hair, flawless dark brown skin, perfect smile, and adorable dimples—she was one of the most beautiful women Beth had ever seen. Cynthia always dressed with effortless ease, yet managed to look unbelievably chic even in a pair of sweatpants. She was a perfectly proportioned size eight and she and Zane were a gorgeous couple, living the kind of trendy, wealthy lifestyle that most people in their mid-twenties to thirties age group aspired to.