Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Which goes nowhere toward explaining why I’m sitting at the table with my dinner waiting for Leif to make an appearance. Because we’re not hanging out together tonight. Not even a little.
When he finally walks out of his bedroom, it’s in a black pair of jeans, a black button-down shirt, and black boots. His hair is tied back and his gaze is not exactly happy. Honestly, I can’t read him. There’s a line between his brows, but none on his forehead, so his anxiety levels are probably slightly above normal maybe.
“You look good,” I say, holding a rib in my sticky fingers. Barbeque was given to us by God. It’s a fact. Add collard greens and cornbread and you’ve basically got nirvana. Living in the middle of town and having access to all of the delivery in all the land is working out well for me, if not my bank account.
He smiles. “You’re a mess.”
“There’s only one way to eat ribs, and that is with your whole mouth and soul.”
“I see.” He crosses to the kitchen, pulls out a clean towel, and wets it beneath the sink before returning to the table. “Look here.”
Ever so carefully, he cleans off my face.
I laugh. “I feel like a child.”
“Yeah. Well. You don’t look like one if that helps.” And there’s a warmth in his eyes that kills me.
“Thank you.” I look away for a moment. “So you’re all ready for your hot date?”
He shrugs.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hate getting set up. It’s so fucking awkward.” He leaves the damp towel at my elbow on the table for later use.
“I hear you. Happily, I’m not at that stage yet,” I say. “Tell me about her.”
“Ah, friend of Clem’s. Works at a place opposite the bookstore. That’s about all I know.”
“Is it a double date or . . .”
“Yeah. Which is just more pressure to connect, you know? Under normal circumstances you can meet, have a drink, figure you have nothing in common or there’s nil attraction and go your separate ways all in under thirty minutes,” he says. “But getting dragged along on a double date means you’re stuck there for the whole night whether you’re interested or not.”
I nod.
“Ed gave me the ‘you hardly ever go out and socialize anymore’ lecture followed by the ‘it won’t kill you so stop being a little bitch about it’ speech.”
“Oh. Sounds involved. Still, it must be nice having siblings that care about you.”
“It is. And I know I’m being negative as all hell.”
“You’re allowed to feel how you feel. This is our safe space, after all.”
“But there’s no point to feeling how I feel, because short of faking my own death I’ve got to go.” He sighs. “So I might as well pull my head out of my ass and get on with it. Who knows, it might be fun.”
“Well said and bravely done.”
“Thank you. I’m going to think of it as quality time with Ed and Clem with the possibility of something more.”
There is no twinge of jealousy messing with my insides. It’s just gas or something.
He rolls up the sleeves on his shirt, revealing his strong forearms. “What are you up to tonight, you little carnivore?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Maybe call Mom and Briar and catch up with them. Put on a moisturizing mask and have a glass of wine. Just going to chill.”
“Sounds nice. Don’t watch any more Twilight until I’m back.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
One side of his mouth quirks up. “Who will Bella choose, the vampire or the werewolf?”
“I’ll never tell.”
“I’ll just have to wait and see. Still, it’s a good thing we reconnected. We only got halfway through the third book when I was reading to you in the hospital. If you’d never tracked me down, I would have just lived the rest of my life with this faint cloud of unresolved drama hanging over me. On my deathbed my final words would have been ‘But was it Edward or Jacob?’” He winks. “Later.”
And he’s gone. On a date. Okay. Great. This is all completely normal and I’m fine with it. I am.
FIVE HOURS LATER . . .
“Anna? Baby? What are you doing?”
His big black boots appear at my side. “Cleaning.”
“And that requires your upper body to be wedged underneath the kitchen sink?” His voice echoes around the confines of the otherwise silent main room. The music stopped a while back and I hadn’t bothered to put on another playlist. I had better things to do.
“Yes,” I say.
Nothing from him.
Like it’s weird to spray and wipe down pipes or something. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever cleaned back here. It’s really dusty.”
“You’re probably right.”
“How did the double date go?” I ask, trying to turn to look back at him, only it doesn’t really work with my upper body inside the cupboard. Maneuvering is also difficult with a spray bottle of cleaning stuff and rag taking up my hands. Sometimes my coordination is off when I get tired. Such is life.