Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“Shouldn’t your lovely new assistant be here takin’ notes?” asks Billy after popping an apple tart into his mouth.
“Oh, I gave Malcolm the weekend off. He and Samuel had a previous engagement out of town, and I wasn’t about to call him in for this, I do have a conscience. I’ll fill him in Monday morning. Cole, you don’t mind takin’ time off from the gym when you’re needed, do you? Never mind, my son’s your boss, I can make it happen. Don’t sweat it.”
As if I had a choice in the matter. I force on a smile. “I … of course, Nadine. I’m … I’m happy to do what’s needed.”
“All you need to do is be your charmin’ self. We’ll handle the rest, doll face.”
I close my mouth. Along with my mouth go the rest of the words I can possibly say in this moment. Do I even have a say?
“We can run a feature on each of the bachelors,” Tamika says suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention. “But first, a photo shoot, quickly. A total thirst trap, get everyone’s juices pumping. Once we’ve captured their attention, we’ll run the features—interviews, upclose and personal, full of heart and charm, where we can get to know our ‘sexy southern bachelors’ …”
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, you’ve got it,” sings Nadine with a smack of her hand against the counter.
“We have to turn everyone on and steal their hearts,” Tamika says, then nudges Noah. “This guy’s a wizard with the camera.”
“Of course he is!” chirps Nadine happily, setting her eyes on him. “Sweetheart, we’ve barely spoken since you came in. How are you holding up?”
I glance to my side. Noah, in all his adorable awkwardness, looks paralyzed by Nadine cranking the spotlight onto him, even for such an innocent question. Then again, is any question truly innocent when it comes to Mrs. Strong?
It was pure bliss when we were alone together in the living room. I would have loved to stay there with him all night, had circumstances allowed it. Standing by his side, watching the boys play games, or watching TV, or watching paint dry, it would have made no difference, as long as I was right next to him.
I felt him growing tense. I felt his anxiousness. I knew he was responding somehow to my presence. I was prepared to pull back or give him space, were my advances unwelcome.
But he didn’t move away nor step aside the entire time. He let me stand right there, right next to him, as if actually wanting it.
Is it possible, even in a remote way, that Noah might actually return my feelings?
After five excruciating seconds of silence, which must feel like years for poor Noah, I quickly throw my arm over his back to save him. “I was just talking to him about it in the living room earlier. He’s doing alright. Not a scratch on him, thankfully.”
“Oh, bless your heart, look at you! You’re like … You’re like a big brother to him!” sings Nadine with hearts in her eyes. “Lookin’ out for sweet little Noah like a guardian, like a big bro, like family, like blood, protectin’ your little brother!”
Oh.
I cringe.
The last thing … that I want to be seen as … is a big brother.
Noah’s big platonic brother. Noah’s totally-not-a-romantic-option-for-him-at-all-in-any-way big ol’ protective brother.
Sensing Noah turning into a block of stone under my touch, I drop my arm from his back at once. “I, uh … I’m just—”
“Y’know what?” sings Nadine with a gesture at the windows. “The air is just lovely outside tonight, isn’t it? How ‘bout let’s all go out onto the deck and keep this sexy brainstorming sesh going? We’re cookin’ ourselves up something really hot and spicy here. Hot and spicy genius. I can’t wait to get this ball rollin’!”
Noah departs my side the moment the crowd of us starts to go toward the doors.
My heart pops like a balloon.
Deflating until there’s nothing left.
To my dismay, the “brainstorming session” occupies over an hour and a half of the night. Laughter rings out over the nearby swimming pool and the dark grassy fields beyond as everyone contributes their ideas and opinions to the discussion. Noah had found himself a slightly isolated chair sandwiched between two potted ferns, and the only neighboring seat was quickly taken by Paul and his magic glass of wine that never seems to empty, so I ended up taking a chair by Burton and Tanner. The whole time we brainstorm, I sneak glances at Noah, curious what’s on his mind, but unlike in the kitchen, I can’t ever catch his eyes. In fact, he’s determined to look anywhere but me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have put my arm around his back.
Maybe he was happy standing in the living room watching the kids play that game, and I came and shattered his peace.