Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“It was touch and go there for a while, but I seem to be surviving.”
The lunch rush at The Wet Whistle isn’t much of a rush at all. Customers wander in as if they have nowhere to be and casually order their sandwiches while chatting up Tabitha. It’s the most low-key establishment I’ve ever seen—even more so than a lunch I had in Spain, where the patrons could bring their own lunch to the restaurant and enjoy the atmosphere.
Gavin runs his hands down his jeans and tosses me a killer smile. “How are things going with my brother?”
I look down at my phone to keep him from reading my features.
Whatever I expected this job to entail, this wasn’t it. Five days in, we’re coming together in a routine that feels too natural.
I just happen to come downstairs while Chase is getting ready for work. He packs his lunch and gathers his things while I sip a cup of coffee. Some mornings he’s almost chatty; others, he hardly says a word. But even those mornings, I’m pretty confident he likes me sitting at the table while he preps his day. He steals glances when he thinks I’m not looking. And every morning, without fail, he thanks me for being there. Then he flashes a smile, as small as it may be, that fuels my day.
It feels good to be appreciated. It feels even better to be wanted—both as the nanny and a woman. Because even though we’ve agreed that’s not in the cards, it doesn’t mean the urge has gone away. For either of us.
“Megs?”
“Oh, it’s going pretty good,” I say, tucking a strand of hair.
The knowing look on his face causes my cheeks to heat.
“Pretty good, huh?” he asks.
Before I must respond, Tabitha slides up to the table next to Gavin.
“Hey, cutie,” she says to him, snapping a piece of gum. “What can I get ya?”
“Don’t you look pretty today, Miss Tab,” he says.
“You’re such a flirt, Mr. Marshall.”
He grins. “It’s impossible not to flirt with someone as beautiful as you.”
She swats him with her order pad. “What do you want? Anything?”
“Nah, I’m just here to harass Megan.” He looks at me and winks. “Did you order already?”
I nod.
“Well, all right,” Tabitha says. “I’ll have your food out in a few, Megan.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Once we’re alone, Gavin leans forward and laces his fingers on the table.
“What?” I ask.
“What, what?”
“What’s that little smirk about?”
It grows deeper. “Oh, nothing.”
“Dammit, Gavin.”
He laughs. “You and Chase are two peas in a pod.”
Tabitha returns with my grilled cheese and fries. She places the plate and a fresh Sprite in front of me before jetting off to help a large table of hunters who came in.
My bracelets jingle against the tabletop as I reach for my drink.
“My job as Chase’s brother and your new best friend,” he says, “is to ensure you’re both … you know …” He searches for the right word. “I’m here to facilitate things.”
“Do I look like I need a facilitator?”
He slowly blinks. “Yes.”
I put my straw in the new glass and take a quick sip. Ignoring his implications.
“What have you been up to?” I ask, refocusing the conversation on Gavin.
The sly smile he gives me makes it clear he knows what I’m doing but is willing to play along.
“I’ve been working,” he says.
“Looks like it.”
He laughs. “I work here at night part-time—mostly because I like it, and if I have too much time on my hands, trouble seems to find me.”
“I believe that.”
My sandwich is buttery and cheesy—grilled cheese perfection. The first bite leaves a trail of oil down my chin.
“During the day,” Gavin says as I dab a napkin to my face, “I work at Cotton’s.”
I put the napkin on the table. “I have heard about Cotton’s many times this week, and I have no idea who the guy is.”
“He’s a farmer,” he says. “He owns half of this county. His farm isn’t far from where you broke down last weekend.”
“What do you do for him?”
“A little of everything. Tend to the animals. Work on equipment. Bale hay. Seed, fertilize, harvest. You know—farm work shit.”
“Sounds like you’re a real Renaissance Man.”
He leans back in his chair and nods. “That’s me. Jack-of-all-trades.”
I take another bite. Oh my heavens. This is delicious.
Gavin studies me for a long time. If he’s waiting on my cue, he’ll have to wait until the cows come home because I’m not leading this conversation. Not when I think he wants it to go in a particular direction I’m trying to avoid.
“Do you know what’s funny?” he asks finally.
“What’s that?”
“Here we are, best friends and all, and I don’t know anything about you.”
“That is funny.”
He narrows his eyes, making me laugh.
I take another drink and settle in. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“What do you want to tell me?”