Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
She’s logical, whereas I’m… emotional. Although sometimes it’s vice versa.
Without much time to waste, I put it on speaker once I get to my car.
“Okay, spill it.” The first words out of her mouth make me laugh out loud.
“Spill what?” I rest my elbow on the car door and put my head in my hand as I drive down the interstate, listening to the GPS.
“You wouldn’t call if it wasn’t about Charlie.”
“You remember what I told you?”
“How could I forget?”
Deep breath in. “Well, he decided I’m not allowed to back out of our deal and that he wanted to take me on a date,” I practically squeal.
Ann’s reaction is everything I needed. From the: oh my God, oh my God. To asking what I’m wearing and if I put on cute underwear… just in case.
The only time my smile slips is when I remember I haven’t told Ann about the IVF and baby issues. In fact, Charlie’s the only one I’ve told that to.
Ann wishes me all the good luck in the world, telling me she loves me and that she has such good feelings about this before I hang up.
When I park I have to remind myself, I’m on a date with my fake boyfriend.
A man who isn’t right for me, and I know it. Heck, I doubt I’m right for him either.
A man who doesn’t want the same things I want. That much we both know.
It’s stupid of me. I’m wasting time.
But I can’t help thinking he’s a man who’d make a cute baby…
The chill in the air is more refreshing than cold when I get out to search for Charlie. Although I’m distracted, busy scrolling through an email on my phone. My doctor’s office emailed me information about IVF and how to find a donor. My eyes widen as I look through it all. There are a ton of big numbers -- ten thousand dollars, forty thousand unique donors.
It’s too much for me to try to take in right now, especially if I’m supposed to be on this date. Stashing my phone, I wait at the entrance to the park, next to the big white sign waiting for Charlie.
When I see Charlie, everything in me clenches, the good kind of way. From his simple white tee pulled tight across his broad shoulders, to his bulging biceps and worn jeans… he is my kind of man. I try not to stare at him as I hand him an iced coffee, but his deep green eyes are all over me.
“Thanks,” he says, eyes roving down my figure. “You look… nice.” Heat creeps up high in my cheeks, all the way to my temple.
“Yeah, well,” I can’t help but smile, blushing as I play off the compliment. I swear, when Charlie’s around, my cheeks are a permanent shade of tomato red, made even more apparent because of my fair complexion. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“You ready?” he says, nodding toward the park.
“I am,” I answer. I have to hold onto my coffee with both hands to keep from reaching out for his with one of mine.
Sipping my iced coffee, I ignore the feeling that something’s different between us as we stroll down one of the paths, under a banner declaring this the Piedmont Park Festival in bright blue scroll. Each side of the path is dotted with individual booths full of food and games or larger showcases of handmade trinkets and art to buy, which take up several tents measuring twelve by twelve feet each.
I sip my iced coffee, but I can’t help smiling as Charlie tells me a story about his younger sister Ali and how she had a fit one year over her funnel cake dropping.
“I mean… she was only, what did you say? Six? And I’d have a fit today if I dropped a full funnel cake.”
The conversation is easy. The laughs are genuine. It’s different. The small touches, the quick glances. It makes my naïve heart think there’s something here.
“Alright, your turn. What about your family?”
“Well, it’s just my mom now. My dad died in a car crash when I was little.” I talk easily, but stare at the grass as we climb up a bit of a hill. I wish I had a big loving family like his.
“I’m sorry.” I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look back.
“It’s been a long time. But thank you.” It’s quiet for too long. I want to tell him that I talk to my mom often but she’s busy and travels a lot. It’s all clogged at the back of my throat though, so I try washing it down with the rest of my coffee.
“What about your parents?” I question him, “What do they do. Your mom seems really sweet.”
His grin is asymmetric and that’s when our hands brush for just a moment. Ripping my gaze away so he doesn’t see my blush get even hotter, I wait for him to answer. “Dad’s a pilot. Ma’s a homemaker. And you’ve met one of my sisters.”