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)
That was all I wanted in my mouth.
On my mouth.
Around my mouth.
Everything to do with that beautiful man and my mouth.
Has there really been nothing else on my mind all day but him?
The front door opens, startling me out of my memories of my day at the Spruce Press building, and in come Cole and my mother, who herself seems surprisingly placated. “Well, well,” she sings as she reappraises me, as gentle as a snowflake. “Cole filled me in on all the details you had failed to mention. Apparently your incident is the real reason you had gone over to the Strongs’ that night.” Her face contorts, turning at once giddy. “My son … and the Mayor Strong workin’ together? On this big ol’ pageant event I just read about? Be still my dancin’ heart, I think this just went from the worst day to the best.” She pats Cole’s cheek. “At least someone here knows how to properly communicate.”
He nods at her. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Reed, though if I had an opinion on it, I can understand why Noah held back. He cares about you so much, he didn’t want to burden you.” Then he gazes at me, flashing his beautiful smile.
I can’t help but return the smile, swooning.
If Cole wasn’t already enough of a hero, my knight just went and saved me from the gelatin dragonhead’s wrath.
“And as much as I’d love to take you up on that dinner offer, Mrs. Reed,” Cole goes on, coming up and throwing an arm over my back, startling me. “I was hoping to take this guy out tonight.”
I blink and look at him. “You were?” I mumble.
My mom seems to find that notion a thousand times better than any dinner or terrifying treat she could have concocted, the way her face explodes into glitter. “That is mighty fine with me! I know my son is in good hands when he’s with you. You’re a fine, fine young man, Cole. The finest. Oh, how fine you’ve become!”
If she uses the word “fine” one more time … “Mom, I’m gonna buy you a thesaurus for your birthday.”
“Go on, go on,” she urges, practically pushing us out the door. “Don’t let us stop you! We’ll be quite alright here. Don’t even need to call us when you get to wherever it is you’re goin’. When you’re with Cole, I know you’ll be as dandy as a dandelion. Go, go! The night is only so long and you’ve got fun to have!”
Why is she talking like we’re nearing midnight already and my carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin? It’s barely five. The sun is up and bright. My mother must have laced her latest treats with a bucket of sugar for the way she’s hopping around everywhere. She’s even sweating. She just wiped her brow off with the back of her hand for the fifth time. There are droplets of sweat literally hanging from the end of her nose.
But Cole, in his amazingly accepting and loving way, smiles at my mom like she’s the greatest human ever. “I’ll be happy to take your son off of your hands and keep him nice and safe tonight.”
“Not too safe!” she replies happily, tears of joy in her eyes.
This is all a bit too much for me. “I need to freshen up,” I tell the gleeful pair of them, then slip away down the hall to my room.
Thankfully, the awkwardness only lasts until I’m out the door. As soon as I’m in Cole’s car and we’re driving away, I find my heart so light, it could float off into the stratosphere. The giddiness I felt all last night is back with a happy vengeance, causing my skin to prickle with anticipation and my face to do this weird thing where I feel like I’m wearing a permanent smile.
“Does it feel like I kidnapped you a little bit?” asks Cole as he turns onto 2nd Street. “Not that your parents seemed to mind.”
“The one or two times I actually went to someone’s birthday party back in school,” I mutter, “I was convinced my mom bribed their family with baked goods. She’d literally pay for me to have a social life. She would sell her soul. She wants me out of the house doing things. She even considered hiring a therapist once because she thought I spent too much time in my room on the computer. I mean, has she met Dad? He plays with trains.” I huff and gaze out the window. We pass by Hadley’s Hardware, sharing a parking lot with its smaller neighbor Crafty Carson where my dad works part-time—and feeds his aforementioned train addiction. “Not that we could afford a therapist.”
“Well, I like you and your family just the way y’all are.”
I look at Cole, watching as he drives with confidence, wearing a proud smile on his face. There’s something about his expression that always puts me at ease. I believe every word he says. Even my own pesky self-doubts are no match for his sincerity.