Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“It’s okay. I’ve got it.” I smile, and he shakes his head while taking the box from me before opening the door to the house like he’s been here before.
“Are you coming?” He stops to look over his shoulder, and I step into the house and close the door while looking around. The living room and kitchen are open, and the space looks welcoming, with paintings and quotes on the walls and knickknacks along with framed photos on every available surface. “Everyone is out back. Come on.”
I start to follow him, then stop when Elsie appears from around the corner, spotting him first. “Todd.” She leans up, kissing his cheek. “I thought you said you’d be here two hours ago.”
“Sorry, Mom. I got caught up at work.”
“You’re always getting caught up at work.” She frowns at the box he’s holding.
“She brought them.” He tips his head my way, and I wave when her head turns in my direction.
“Anna.” Her frown slips away as she smiles. “You’re here, and I see you met my youngest, Todd.”
“I did.” I smile, and he returns it before he goes to a butcher-block island just inside the kitchen and sets down the box.
“Is Dad out back?” he asks.
“He’s at the grill,” Elsie tells him, and he shakes his head, then lifts his chin toward me.
“Nice meeting you, Anna.”
“Nice meeting you too.” I watch him walk away, trying to find even a small similarity between him and his brother, but there doesn’t seem to be one—at least not in the looks department.
“Are you hungry?” Elsie asks.
“I’m always hungry.”
“Then you’re in the right place.” She heads into the kitchen, and I follow, stopping when she peeks into the box I brought with me. “Did you bake these?”
“My boss made the cookies, but I made the bars.”
“They look delicious.” She takes out one of the caramel-cream bars and smells it before taking a bite. “This is very good. I’ll have to get the recipe.” She closes the lid on the box, then nods toward a door. “You can put your purse in there while I grab some stuff from the fridge.”
“Sure.” I place my hand on the door handle and push before jumping back when a huge brown dog rushes toward me.
“Bane!” she shouts as the dog knocks me to my bottom and proceeds to lick my face, making me laugh.
“Bane, stop! Oh God, Anna, I’m so sorry,” Elsie says, finally pulling Bane off me. “Calvin has some big case he’s been working on this past week and hasn’t been home, so Bane has been staying with us. He must have gotten locked in the room the last time someone went in there.”
“It’s okay.” I get up from the floor and laugh when he comes back over to nuzzle his face into my stomach. “Is he a German shepherd?”
“Yeah, Calvin’s been training him so he’ll be able to go out on patrol with him. But unlike what he told you about his dog listening, he obviously lied.”
My cheeks warm. “He told you about that?”
“Pearl told me, and I told him to find you and apologize for what he said.”
“Oh.” Well, that answers why he came by the shop, and now I feel like an idiot for thinking he felt the same pull I did when we met and couldn’t stay away.
“Enough about that. Let’s put your bag up, get you a drink and some food, and introduce you to some people.” She takes my purse from my hand and places it on the bed, then walks back by me. “Do you mind helping me carry some stuff outside?”
“Not at all.” I give Bane’s head another rub, then follow her to the fridge with him at my side. Once our arms are full with condiments, she opens the sliding door, allowing the sound from outside to pour in.
“Everyone here is either family or a close friend. You don’t need to be nervous.”
“My parents used to have get-togethers at least once a week. I’m used to being around people I don’t know. I’m out of practice, but I’ll be okay,” I reassure her.
“Where are your parents?” she asks, eyeing me with curiosity.
“Chicago. They both were born and raised in the city.”
“Have they come to visit you here?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I say, not wanting to tell her the truth—that my parents have pretty much disowned me since I called off the wedding and moved. At first, they seemed convinced I’d gotten cold feet and would come back in time. When I didn’t return after three months, they threatened me with the loss of my inheritance. Now they’re just giving me the cold shoulder. They don’t call or check in, and when I reach out to them, they get off the phone as quickly as possible or ignore my calls completely. It hurts, but I can’t say I’m surprised by their actions, since neither of them would ever win an award for parenthood.