Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Sure, of course. I’ll start cleaning up.” I start to gather the dishes.
He points at me. “Don’t you dare. You cooked; I’ll clean.”
“Do you have a telescope, Dr. Reed?” Kylee asks excitedly as she pulls on her coat and zips it.
“Unfortunately, I do not,” I say with a bit of regret. “I had a beautiful one, but when I moved to Manhattan for school at NYU, there was just too much light pollution. Not to mention a lack of outdoor space. I donated my telescope to a science camp so someone could make better use of it. You can still see a few stars, though,” I continue. “The light from the city prevents any proper stargazing, but I’m excited to hear what you can identify just by using the naked eye.”
“Okay!” Kylee says, already bounding toward the stairs.
“Be right back,” Christian calls over his shoulder. “Remember. I clean.”
“Absolutely,” I agree. But the second I hear their voices heading up the stairs to the roof, I stand and stack the plates. I need something to do with my hands to keep my brain from going into overdrive, analyzing every moment of the evening so far.
I’m pretty sure it went well, but I’m out of my depth here with this homemaking thing, no matter what my horoscope says about my “domestic mood.”
As far as the untapped maternal urge, I can’t deny that I’ve felt an unfamiliar longing in that direction as well. The more time I spend with Kylee, the more I realize I enjoy children. Enjoy her.
And her dad, too. Christian is…
Every bit the Prince Charming he’d seemed that first day on the sidewalk.
He’s polite. Charming. An effortless conversationalist. There’s an easiness with him that is exceedingly pleasant. He even seems to be a wonderful father; Kylee clearly adores him.
But there is maybe just the tiniest part of me that can’t stop wondering:
Am I following my heart?
Or my horoscope?
Which is aggravating as hell, because the entire reason I even started the Horoscope Project was to access that other, untapped, or perhaps long-buried part of myself. But lately, Aunt Lillian’s parting warning before she’d gone to Florida is rattling in my head:
“Don’t trade one set of rules for another.”
The fact that Christian is a father only adds to the complexity. Kylee’s been quite clear from the beginning that she wants to find her dad a girlfriend, and while of course nothing’s been said explicitly this early in the relationship, Christian isn’t the kind of guy who would engage in a fling, especially not with his daughter’s tutor…
I turn away from the sink to grab more dishes and jump when I see Christian in the doorway.
“Lurk much?” I say, shaking out my damp hands and wiping them on a towel.
“You mutter unintelligibly to yourself when you’re thinking,” he says, moving closer to me with a smile. “Did you know?”
“It’s been mentioned,” I say, smiling back as he wraps his arms around my waist. I loop mine around his neck, the gesture still not quite natural for someone unaccustomed to physical affection, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.
“Is it weird if I say I’m going to miss you while I’m at my parents’ for Thanksgiving?” he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss over my mouth.
“If it is, I like weird,” I reply.
“Hmm.” He kisses me again. “I scared you when I mentioned meeting my mother, didn’t I?”
“Not at all,” I lie, and he seems to believe me, because he pulls me closer.
“Good. Because I can picture you all too easily coming with me and Kylee to Oregon for Thanksgiving to meet my parents.”
“Oh. Wow.”
I stiffen, and he laughs. “Don’t worry, I don’t mean this year. I know we’re too soon for the meet-the-family thing. I just… I don’t know, I saw you here, and realized I was bummed about the fact that I wouldn’t get to see you this weekend.”
“I’m disappointed, too,” I say, forcing myself to relax.
“Alright,” he says, with one last kiss before stepping back. “So, here’s what we’re going to do.” He pulls me toward the table. “You’re going to sit and drink this delicious wine that I brought. I’m going to clean up. And you can reassure me that the moody guy on the roof doesn’t have a crush on you.”
I let out a genuinely started laugh. “Archer? Goodness. No. I’m not sure Archer even likes me. Or anyone,” I add after a moment.
“Do you like him?” Christian asks, giving me a faux-menacing look over his shoulder as he carries the serving dish to the sink.
“Depends on the day.” I smile. “But no, not like that. Besides, he’s got a girlfriend. Thing.”
“A girlfriend thing. Color me intrigued.”
I shrug. “I’m not really clear on the details. I think it’s some modern, nonexclusive situation? From the bare-bones details he doles out, she’s a high-profile agent who’s in Los Angeles most of the time, but when she’s here…”