Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“I’d like to meet them,” I say.
Jesse runs his tongue over his lips, then nods. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”
He does the thing with his hand on my back again, and this time I wonder if he’s trying to claim me for himself or simply keeping the others from thinking I’m free game. Jesse punches in a code for the front door lock, then opens two big double doors.
The interior of the cabin is all cozy yellows and browns, with warm lamp-light and a fire burning in the hearth. There are animal furs and blankets all over comfortable looking furniture, with a mini-library behind the living room that I want to go curl up and die in.
A tall guy with shoulder-length, straw blonde hair, looks our way. He has blue eyes and a scar running from his cheek to his chin. I’ve been around hockey enough to suspect it’s a puck to the face injury. The sight of it makes my skin crawl with sympathy. It must have hurt.
The guy opens his mouth to say something, but freezes when he sees me. “Oh,” is all he says.
“Nolan,” Jesse says. “This is Jake’s sister, Andi. She’s off-limits.”
I slide my eyes toward him. That’s a bit of a strange way to introduce somebody, but I decide maybe Jesse is more like my brother. Protective to a fault. For some reason, I don’t think his protectiveness has something to do with his intentions towards me. He seems to just want to keep the other guys from taking advantage of me.
“Obviously,” Nolan says. “Even if she wasn’t Jake’s sister, she’s wearing a wedding dress.”
Jesse seems to have forgotten that detail. He looks down at me, then pulls something from my hair. I look at his hand and notice he’s holding a twig. Thanks, Dr. Knight, I think. You did a full physical on me and didn’t think to pull the freaking twig from my hair before sending me out to the waiting room full of hot, beefy hockey guys?
“Did that come from my hair?” I ask.
He grins, chucking it to the side. “You’re good now.”
“Are they back?” Another voice calls from somewhere upstairs. I hear footsteps coming down toward us and then see a big, heavily muscled man with shaggy dark hair. He stops short when he spots me. “Oh, wow. A runaway bride? That’s super good luck.”
I scrunch up my face. “What?”
“Sorry,” he says. “I just mean it’s a good omen. Runaway brides mean fresh starts. Maybe that’s a good sign for our next game.”
“That’s Maddox,” Carter explains. “He’s got like three brain cells, and he uses all of them to hold every wild, silly superstition you can imagine.”
“You shouldn’t talk like that about superstitions, man. It’s bad luck.”
Carter gives me a “see?” kind of look.
I smile. “Hi, Maddox. And hi, Nolan. I’m Andi Summers.” I’m distracted when my phone buzzes from my bag, which I now notice is smeared with dirt. I glance at the screen and see a text from Jake.
Jake: Be there as soon as I can tomorrow. Don’t do anything crazy. I hope the guys are taking good care of you, but not too good. I calmed mom and dad down. They are good. Everything is good here, so don’t freak out too much.
I look up from my phone and see all five hockey players are just watching me. It’s a little overwhelming, and I’m also aware that I probably look several shades of crazy. I’m wearing my big wedding dress, my hair is wild, I’ve got a cut on my forehead, and I’m wearing a pair of old, way-too-big snow boots Jesse let me borrow from his truck. Yeah. I can’t imagine they’re forming the highest opinions of me right now.
“Well,” Nolan says, looking around the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I was just making bread.”
“You’re making bread? Like slicing it, or actually making it?” I ask.
“I’m making it. I brought my mother from home for this.”
I narrow my eyes, then lean a little to see deeper into the kitchen. “Your mom is here?”
Everybody laughs, and I smile, even though I don’t get the joke.
“It’s a cooking thing,” Nolan explains. I like the way he’s smiling. He’s not laughing at my expense. He just wants me to understand. “In cooking terms, a ‘mother’ is flour, water, yeast, and beneficial bacteria. Bakers use it for making breads like sourdough, but call it a mother. With regular feedings, you can keep it alive forever. My grandma started this one over forty years ago, and we’ve been feeding it and cooking with it ever since.”
“I know,” Jesse says. “It sounds super creepy. It’s just a jar that looks like a bubbly milkshake.”
“Well,” I say. “I, um, can’t wait to taste your mother?”
4
JESSE
Andi is at the kitchen table with Carter and Nolan. The three of them are going on and on about some TV show they all like, which is based on a book they read as kids.