Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Ahh,” JP said just as there was a shuffling movement from the woman on the couch.
Her hair was…everywhere. And she was wearing a t-shirt that was two sizes too big for her.
At some point last night, she’d ditched her shoes and her socks, but her leggings remained, one pant leg rucked up to her knees while the other was pulled down past her heel.
She looked absolutely adorable.
“Hungry?” I asked her.
She looked at the pancakes that were still cooking, then at JP’s plate, and rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait for the next batch, I guess.”
Smiling—goddamn, when did I start doing that so much?—I grabbed the coffeepot that was behind me and filled the mug that looked like it’d magically appeared in her hand.
“How do you know that I’m not putting creamer in this?” she asked skeptically when I didn’t leave enough room in the cup.
“Because I watched you for a full year and know that you drink it black, like your soul,” I taunted her.
She glared at me as she took a sip, then I started to laugh.
At the bottom of her coffee cup, which only became visible when she drank, was a hand extending the middle finger.
Chuckling, I flipped the pancakes, then took them off and placed them onto a plate. Going off of what I’d watched of her eating habits before, I filled her plate with all of them, just like I had her daughter. Then piled on a couple of pieces of bacon.
She gladly took the plate and dug into the bacon while she dutifully waited for her daughter to slather on half the bottle of syrup.
“Do either of you even want eggs?” I asked as I hesitated over the carton.
I liked eggs, but I wasn’t going to make them just for myself. Seemed like a waste of a cleanish skillet.
“Nah,” Folsom eyed the oven. “How much longer on those cookies?”
I looked at the still full bowl of cookie dough—I only had so many hands—and said, “About twenty minutes.”
“Then definitely not. I’ll finish these, then help you clean up. By then, we’ll have our dessert.”
I rolled my eyes. “Y’all do realize, correct, that it’s not even noon yet? I feel like this is kind of like alcohol, where it should be at least a certain time before you start eating bakery items.”
“Oh, pshhh,” JP wiggled her fingers. “That’s just blasphemy. There’s always time for chocolate chip cookies.”
I finished up the last four pancakes and took the last eight slices of bacon, then took a seat.
They both eyed my pile. “Do y’all want any?”
They shook their heads. “There’s no way that you can finish all of that food,” JP challenged me.
I winked at her. “Want to bet?”
JP nodded. “What do I get if I win?”
“I’ll take you to the store and buy you whatever you want, within reason,” I offered.
“Done,” she narrowed her eyes. “You have until the cookies are finished, though. Mom told me to always make sure my bets have stipulations, that way, you can’t get fuc…”
“JP,” Folsom growled. “Don’t you dare.”
JP blinked at her mother innocently. “I was going to say fudged.”
“Sure you were,” Folsom grumbled.
We all ate in silence, and I didn’t finish the last piece of bacon, but only because I was loving the look of glee on JP’s face.
She really didn’t believe in me.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d be hungry in an hour. Not having two sources of protein usually meant that I wouldn’t be able to go long before I’d have to eat again. I had a bottomless pit for a stomach.
I could eat all day long and never tire of it.
“That’s impressive still,” JP said. “I’m gonna go get ready.”
Then she was gone, leaving me with her mother watching me in amusement.
“Go ahead and finish it,” she rolled her eyes. “She’s not used to seeing a grown man eat.”
That made me feel exceptionally good.
I loved that she wasn’t around grown men enough to know they could put away some food.
That meant her mother wasn’t near them.
Folsom stood with her syrupy plate, then walked over to the counter.
I waited until I’d finished the last slice of bacon, then stood up and walked until I could reach the sink to drop my plate into it.
She seemed to almost melt when she felt me move up behind her. Placing both hands on either side of her, curled around the top of the sink, I said, “I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”
She laughed. “I know what I want to do with you.”
I felt things inside of me tense. “I’ve done nothing but think about you nonstop since you left.”
She swallowed and dropped her head, chin resting on her chest.
“I couldn’t tell you,” she whispered. “I couldn’t tell anyone. That day I left? That was the day that I knew we’d die if we stayed. As much as I wanted to stay with you, my natural instinct for the last decade of my life has been to run and hide. I’ll not apologize for that.”