Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Then what are you doing off work at,” I imagine her looking for a clock, “four in the afternoon?”
“Ramsey is coming to my place tonight for our second date. I want to make sure my house is on point. I need a shower, and I need to figure out what we’re going to eat.”
“And you left work early? For that?” she asks for clarification.
“I did.” I know what she’s thinking. I never leave work early. Never. Unless it’s a family emergency. There was also the one time I had the flu and was forced to go home, not that I was getting much done at the office anyway. Otherwise, I’m there past normal quitting time on most days.
“I knew the two of you would hit it off,” she boasts.
“We are. We went out last night and decided tonight we would stay in. That’s why I need your help. What should I make or order for dinner?”
“Aw, you’re nervous.”
She’s right. I am nervous. I want tonight to be a good night for Ramsey. For both of us. I want her to see that staying in can be just as fun and that I don’t need to show her off. Sure, I’d love to do just that, but I’m also good to keep her all to myself. Her ex used her as arm candy, and I’m not that guy.
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Just be you, Deacon. What do you want to make?”
“Well, we had burgers on the grill Saturday afternoon, and we had burgers last night. I don’t want to order pizza again like we did Saturday night.”
“What’s something that you enjoy making that won’t stress you out?”
“I know how to cook lots of things. I have lived on my own for years now.”
“Old man,” she teases.
“Palmer,” I growl.
“Fine. I was just kidding. You know that, right? Ten years isn’t the end of the world, and you make her happy, Deac. That’s all that matters. She needs and deserves all the happiness after the life she’s lived.”
“How about lasagna? Does she eat lasagna?” I ask my sister.
“Why don’t you ask her?” she inquires.
“I-I don’t know. You’re right. I’ll call her now.”
“Deacon…” She rushes to get my name out before I hang up. “Just be you. She really likes you. And you don’t have to tell me that you really like her. Your actions speak volumes. Be happy, big brother.”
“Thanks, kid,” I say, getting my own dig in about her age. However, it’s a little creepy now that I think about it since she and Ramsey are the same age. I shake out of my thoughts and focus on her laughter.
“Love you, big brother.”
“Love you too, little sister. Hey, when do I get copies of those pictures?”
“Is there one in particular you want?”
“All of them.”
“Do you want any prints?”
“Yes. Can you make that happen?”
“Sure. I’ll email you the link. I’ll get 4x6 copies of all of them, but if you want one blown up or on a canvas or something, let me know.”
“Thanks, Palmer.” I end the call and start typing out a text to Ramsey, but a text won’t do. While I get to see her in a few hours, the thought of hearing her voice wins over, and I back out of the message and hit Call instead.
“Hello.”
I exhale a heavy breath at the sound of her voice. “Ramsey,” I murmur.
“Is everything all right?”
I guess me acting out of character is stumping everyone in my life these days. “I just needed to ask you something, and I wanted to hear your voice, so I called instead of texting you.”
“You wanted to hear my voice?”
“Yes.”
“What did you want to ask me?”
Right. Get to the point, Setty. “Do you like lasagna?”
“Oh, um, yeah.”
“Ramsey.” It’s not meant to be, but it comes out as part growl. “I need your words, sweetheart.”
“I like lasagna. I’m not really a fan of ricotta cheese or cottage cheese.”
“Me either. I make it with meat, sauce, noodles, parmesan, and mozzarella. Does that sound good? Maybe some garlic bread to go with it?”
“That sounds perfect, Deacon. What can I do?”
“I’m sitting outside the grocery store now. I’m going to run in and grab what I need and then head home. You can come over anytime.” I need a shower and to straighten up the house, but I’m a pretty tidy guy, so I’m not too worried about that. Besides, she needs to know the real me, just like I want to know the real her.
“Okay. I’ll grab something for dessert.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that she’s dessert, but I refrain. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. It’s just after four now. How about I come over around five or so? I can help you cook.”
“I’d like that. I’ll see you soon.”