Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Reeling with a mixture of anticipation, frustration, and the desire to do physical harm to Fletcher and Pauline, I ease into my chair.
“I don’t have the final count yet, but I think we’re going to be around four hundred,” Pauline says.
“Four hundred what?” Fletcher asks.
Dishes and utensils clink and ting as everyone digs into the rare meat, roasted potatoes, and garlicky asparagus.
My anxious hands rub along my soft denim jeans, building warm friction.
Milo’s boot nudges my foot under the table. Reluctantly, I lift my gaze from my plate to him.
“People attending the wedding,” Pauline says.
If Ranger sat on me, I’m not sure it would feel this painful on my chest.
The wedding …
Milo smiles with his eyes, sliding his foot against mine again while he slowly chews. It’s as if he’s not listening to a word Pauline’s saying. How can he be so immune to the death of us?
It’s not his hands or his lips. But I’ll take whatever touch I can get from him.
“I thought it was going to be a small wedding.”
“Fletcher, we started with close to eight hundred. Four is small.”
“When is the wedding?” I manage to ask, giving Pauline a fleeting glance.
She frowns. “How can you not know this?”
I shrug. “Nobody tells me anything. Just when to change my clothes and when to get fitted for my dress. I’ve been gone. Remember? You sent me away to an all-girls school so, I’d be out of your hair.”
“Indiana, that’s enough,” Fletcher warns, glancing up from his plate while cutting his crimson slab of meat.
Pauline blots her mouth. “It’s June first.”
Ten weeks. In ten weeks, Milo will be Jolene’s husband.
“Will you be bringing a date?” she asks.
Milo stiffens a second before sliding his foot away from mine. I give him a measured glance, but he keeps his gaze on his plate.
“You should bring a date, Indiana.”
I raise my eyebrows at Fletcher. Did he really suggest that? Then it hits me … of course. If I have a date, nobody worries about me trying to steal the groom from his bride.
“Do I have to decide right now?”
“No. But you need to let me know before you return to school,” Pauline says.
I nod several times, waiting for Milo to look at me. He doesn’t give me another glance for the rest of the meal.
“Thanks for dinner. I have a few things to check on, so I’m going to excuse myself if that’s okay?” Milo says.
“Of course.” Fletcher smiles and nods.
“Good night, Milo,” Pauline says.
He gives her a quick nod and mumbles, “Night.”
“Good night,” I say with the most confidence I’ve had in my voice all night. Can he please look at me?
Then he does.
Milo’s gaze finds me again, but all I get is a curt nod and a barely detectable smile.
Minutes later, I get excused from the table and lock myself in my bedroom.
Indie: WTF?
Milo doesn’t reply.
Indie: You’re MARRYING HER! And my getting asked if I’m bringing a date to YOUR wedding earns me the cold shoulder?
I wait nearly thirty minutes for an answer.
Nothing.
I call him.
Of course, he doesn’t answer.
When I decide to sneak out just after ten, I hear Pauline and Fletcher in the formal living room.
“I’m sending him to Oklahoma City for the next week. I wasn’t going to go, but given Indie’s unexpected trip home, I think it’s best he is not here,” Fletcher says. He’s puffing on a cigar.
I can smell the sweet, spicy wood aroma. I swear I’ll smell it long after he’s gone. And that can’t happen soon enough.
“Oh, I’m so relieved,” Pauline chirps. “It’s exhausting keeping her away from him.”
“Agreed.” Fletcher chuckles.
I’m glad he finds my love life so amusing.
Sneaking out the dog door, I make my way to Milo’s barn and open the door; all the lights are off.
“Milo?”
No answer.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I check the back of the barn. He’s sitting next to a small fire, a beer in hand and several empty bottles on the ground beside him.
“Why are you ignoring me?” The smoke wafts in my direction, and I blink hard several times.
He inches his gaze to mine before taking a swig of his beer. He seems in no hurry to answer me.
“Are you drunk?”
“Getting there.” He drains the rest of the bottle and tosses it next to the others.
“You can’t be mad if I bring a date to your wedding.”
Milo nods. “I’m aware.” He folds his hands over his stomach and stares at the orange and yellow flames.
I cross my arms. “I don’t want to talk about your stupid wedding.”
“Neither do I.”
“Fletcher is sending you to Oklahoma City until I return to school.”
He nods slowly. “I’m aware.”
“Do you leave early in the morning?”
Again, he nods.
“Milo, I …” My voice begins to crack from the emotions eating away at my heart. “I came home for you.”
He blinks at me a few times, the flicker of flames reflecting in his eyes.