Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
I’m sure that’s part of the reason Bettie did this. She was so grateful for what I did to help raise money for Sprout’s surgery, and she knows I have a crush on her son. I’ve tried to hide it, but I’m not great with concealing my feelings, and Bettie reads people with the accuracy of a woman who’s been a bartender-therapist for thirty years. She probably felt she had no choice but to help play matchmaker.
But when I open the card, the note inside isn’t from Bettie.
It’s from the other two members of this conspiracy…
“What’s it say?” Seven asks, still stretched out on the floor with his eyes closed. Which is probably good. He should definitely be sitting down for this.
“Dear Binx and Seven,” I read aloud, “Sorry we lied and went to extremes, but you didn’t give us a choice. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re…” I clear my throat, a little embarrassed to read the next part, but muscling through. “Can see that you’re perfect for each other. Hopefully three romantic days sharing a cabin in the woods will bring you to your senses. We’ve left all the supplies you’ll need. There are snacks here in the basket, more food in the refrigerator, and clothes and toiletries in the drawers in the bedroom.”
“I hate them,” Seven rumbles from the floor, “but I’m not sad about a clean pair of clothes.”
“Me either,” I say, with a pointed look at my borrowed pants, which are currently rolled up on one side and tucked into my underwear to keep them from sliding down. Turning back to the card, I read on, “We put fresh sheets on the bed and left a speaker on the mantel with an old iPad loaded with songs, so you can play music. There’s a charger in the basket, too. You should have everything you need, so please don’t be stubborn goofballs and try to walk all the way back to Bad Dog or anything stupid like that.”
Seven grunts.
“They know us, that’s for sure,” I reply before reading on, “Wendy Ann will be here to pick you up Friday morning. If you haven’t realized you belong together by then, we promise we’ll leave you alone to ruin your lives in peace. Love, Wendy Ann and Sprout (But mostly Sprout because this is my life you’re trying to ruin, too. I love you guys, and I know you love each other. Please just kiss and live happily ever after already.)”
By the time I’m finished, my throat is tight, and I’m even sadder than I was before.
I wonder what Sprout would think if she knew we’d already kissed and all it had done was make Seven even more determined to push me away?
“Well, that’s going to be a fun conversation,” Seven mutters, his eyes closed again.
I don’t ask him what he’s talking about. I already know.
He’s planning what to say to Sprout once he’s home on Friday, how to tell her that her plan failed and there isn’t going to be a happily ever after.
“At least we have food and shelter and don’t have to walk the rest of the way home,” I say, trying to look on the bright side. “I’m not sure my thighs could take two more days of hiking right now.”
“And I can get some work done around here,” he says. “It won’t be a complete waste of time. I have everything I need to stain the new cabinets and get them hung above the sink.”
His tone implies that it will be a partial waste of time, however, and about as much fun as getting his colon flushed.
I pride myself on my thick skin, but his tone gets to me for some reason. Maybe it’s the exhaustion of the day or the pain from my wounds or just the fact that I’m madly in love with a man who acts like I’m a plague he’s determined not to catch, but before I know it tears are stinging into my eyes.
I tuck the card back into the basket and circle quickly around Seven’s prone form, hurrying toward the door before he gets a look at my face. “I’ll go grab some kindling before it gets too dark and start the fire for bath water. Be back in a few.”
I burst through the door without waiting for a response.
I head off the porch and into the woods a few dozen feet away, taking deep breaths and fighting to get control of myself. I shouldn’t take any of this personally. Seven is a stubborn, independent man whose free will has been taken away. That’s why he’s cranky, not because he’s repulsed by the thought of spending a few days alone with me.
He proved he wasn’t repulsed by me with that kiss this morning and again when he was treating my wounds. I know I wasn’t the only one affected by his hands on my thighs. Even when my skin was stinging with agony, the longing to get closer to him was still there.