Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“Am I a man?” he asks.
“Yes!” we all say.
“Am I famous?” Hmm, kinda, but not in the game.
“Do I have a romantic interest?” is his third question, which sets my heart pounding. It makes Lucy and my dad wince a little as if bringing up anything to do with his first wife, and the fact he’s never been with anyone since could be a hurtful thing to say.
They both go quiet, and Bowdie looks at me quizzically. His mouth curls into a half-smile as he asks me directly, “Do I? Is there someone special in my life?”
It’s the closest I can get to finding out, so I seize my chance.
“Umm, you might. If you do have someone special, you’re kinda quiet about it.” I volunteer, drawing a burst of applause from my dad and Lucy.
“Good reply, Beth!” Dad notes aloud, taking another swig from his beer and looking like he’s enjoying this game a little too much.
“Am I a doctor?” Bowdie asks for his last clue question, each of us getting to ask another if we get one right. When we answer “yes,” his face peels into a wide smile. Keeping his eyes on mine, making me feel like his smile is all for me, he asks me, “Am I Dr. Bowdie Bigg?”
The game is over. My dad groans, annoyed he didn’t get to guess who or what he was first. And me? I got all the info I needed. Sealed with a smile, I know who I’m gonna see in my dreams tonight.
It’s late by the time my dad works us through another three board games, and he’s the only one not yawning. It’s a big deal for him to have a day off with Bowdie over, so we all try to humor him, but once it’s past one in the morning, Lucy winds things up again. Dad’s a little unsteady on his feet and commenting he has work in the morning. He reluctantly agrees that tonight has been “the best night ever.”
It’s clear that Bowdie’s going home now. Lucy is adamant that she’s going with him, taking me aside as my dad and her shoot the breeze by the front door, saying their farewells.
“Luce, you never told me what’s going on,” I urge her in a whisper. “I get it you wanna go home, but if there’s something else bugging you…” I start to say. She crimps her mouth shut, physically showing me that whatever it is, it’s her business and not something she’s willing to share with her bestie.
That, mixed with the fact Bowdie’s leaving, is enough to make me feel a mixed bag of emotions as I join my dad to wave goodbye to them both in the driveway. Bowdie’s rental car gleaming in the driveway makes me wonder why he hurried to get home. Maybe he does have a romantic interest, and perhaps it isn’t you, Beth, but my heart swells with a thrill in my chest when Bowdie moves over to me as dad helps Lucy with some of her things into the trunk.
“There is someone, Beth, and I think you know who it is,” he rasps, leaning down, the words like honey in my ear and sending a flush of heat straight to the one place that swells every time I think of the man.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to pick up the rest of Lucy’s things,” he announces casually, ensuring my dad hears. I already feel my knees trembling.
“Beth’ll be home. Won’t you, sweetie?” Dad drawls, giving me a goofy but pleading smile.
“Oh, I’ll be here,” I answer instantly, already counting the seconds by the time Bowdie’s car peels away down the street. I know he’s watching me in the rearview mirror for as long as he can, making me the last one in behind my dad before he shuts the door for the night.
I’ll be here, Bowdie, and I’ll do whatever you want.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bowdie
The house is still the same. It’s empty of many things Lucy’s gonna need, like food. Me telling her to go on a shopping spree tomorrow to buy whatever she needs and wants doesn’t even seem to lift the strange mood she’s been in since I arrived.
She stabs a few nods and only hums her replies, obviously having other things on her mind. As soon as we’re in the door, she heads straight for her room, leaving me, my luggage, and the bags she’s brought back from Beth’s lingering in the foyer. I tell myself it’s because it’s so late, but Lucy’s always been a night owl. I know tonight, even minus the jet lag, there’s no way I can sleep myself.
Pacing the rooms, I notice the maid service's fine job keeping the place immaculate. Everything just feels so… empty, especially my bed, by the time I surrender to the idea of trying to sleep. It’s the place I told myself a thousand times I’d prefer to be when I was working late on research in London or missing home.