Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Tiffany cocked her head to the side. “You know, ‘snitches get stitches’ is not a concept my mother has ever embraced.”
“Apparently neither is pot roast.” Nora gave my arm a tug. “Come on. Thea’s been waiting on you. She has a call at eight fifteen and she needs to be at the office to take it.”
“I’ll be in the car!” Thea called out. “See ya, Tiff.”
Tiffany’s silver bracelets jingled as she lifted her hand and waved. “Bye, sweetie. Have a better day.”
Better day? Had yesterday been bad? She sure as shit hadn’t acted like it as she’d followed me around while I swept the shop, updating me on every single asshole we’d ever so much as crossed paths with.
I followed Nora out of the hall, passing Tiffany without speaking to her again. I pretended that wasn’t because of six years of Thea training me not to.
Demolishing my first donut in over a decade, I watched Nora swirl around the kitchen. She wrapped up another donut and poured coffee into a travel mug. Then she handed them to me along with a brown paper sack.
“There ya go, buddy. All set for the day.”
I grinned while still chewing. “Thanks, Mom.”
She rolled her eyes and gave me a shove. “Go. And be nice to Thea. She’s been up since three.”
My eyebrows jumped up my forehead. “Why?”
She curled her lip. “What do you mean why? Because you’re a dick. Why else?”
“What did I do?”
She gave me another shove toward the door. “Nothing.”
Juggling my coffee and my donut as I walked, I looked at her over my shoulder. “So why am I a dick?”
“Nothing doesn’t mean you didn’t do anything wrong. It means you did nothing.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
She swooped in front of me and opened the front door. “It means you’re a dick.”
I stared at her for a long beat. “Women are freaking crazy.”
Shooting me a bored glare, she retorted, “Says the man who will starve to death before eating anything Thea touches.”
As usual, my glare was better than hers.
“All I’m asking is that you be nice. You don’t have to reveal your undying love—” She shoved her hand in my face when I opened my mouth to object. “Shut it, Ramsey. This bullshit silent treatment you’re giving her is really starting to piss me off. You have a roof over your head because of her. A bed to sleep in. Clothes in your drawer. A job. A ride to your job. A ride home from your job. Everything.”
“I didn’t ask her for any of that.”
She poked my chest. “I know. Which is exactly why she does it. She feels guilty. If you want to get rid of her so bad, stop acting like an injured puppy she can’t catch. She’s never going to let go if she thinks there’s a possibility you might need her again. Show her you’re okay. Be nice. It won’t kill you.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with her about that last part.
Thea was not a woman who was going to accept casual conversation. If I so much as cracked open the door to more, she was going to barge right through, dropping me to my knees. And once she was in, I was terrified I wouldn’t have the willpower to make her leave again.
Mainly because I didn’t want to leave.
I wanted to go to our tree, back before Josh Caskey had ruined it. I wanted to sit in the branches and listen to my Sparrow talk about anything and everything that happened to pass through her mind. I wanted to climb down and pull her into my arms. I wanted to kiss her so I could finally breathe again. I wanted to get to know the woman she had become and I wanted to give her the life we’d planned and then take selfishly that for myself.
But that’s exactly what following through on my desires would have been.
Completely. Totally. Utterly selfish.
“Please. For me?” Nora begged.
I let out a loud groan. “I’ll try. No promises.”
She squeaked, jumping on her toes and clapping her hands. “Start with something simple. Like, like… Oh, tell her she looks nice today.”
“No.”
“Okay, what about complimenting her perfume? She has to smell better than sweaty guys in prison.”
She did. She smelled like flowers dipped in honey. And every time I walked past her, I held my breath because of it.
“Not doing that either.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Then tell her she has nice boobs. God knows you stare at those enough.”
“And we’re done here.” I started to turn away, but she caught my arm.
“Okay. Okay. Just make conversation. Things like good morning and thanks for the ride go a long way when you’ve been up with nightmares since three.”
My shoulders got tight. “What kind of nightmares?”
“The kind where you go back to prison and you’re a dick who cuts her out again.”