Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Alarm bells clash in my head. That was just tacked on there so smoothly and casually, but I’m not fooled. Van’s soft caramel eyes are watching me way too closely, and I nearly choke on my tongue before I can respond. “Uhhhhhh, no. I’ve been promising to help with the flowers here for a while. It’s already late for planting season. I got everything on sale, so that was a bonus. Probably the only time procrastination pays off.”
He crosses his arms, and his muscles bunch up. His T-shirt tightens over his chest, and I swear I can see the outline of a nipple. Never underestimate male nipples. They’re amazingly sexy. “Did Nanny bribe you to come over here and keep me company?”
“I—I—”
“I mean with gravy, not with cash.”
“Ummmmmm….”
“She’s not trying to play some kind of matchmaking game, is she?”
“Naturally.” Sometimes the truth is best. I remember Kimmy’s pep talk about my unflagging honesty. “But that’s probably her intention with most people who are single and in the same area at the same time. I came to help with the flowers. And…and because I wanted to see if you were okay. You were right about the party being intense.” I beg him silently with my eyes to try and understand what I’m saying, but I don’t know if he does, and it’s probably best to just come out with it. “Kimmy can also be intense, but she’s had to be tough. She’s been running things by herself for a long time.”
Van’s not going to dig into that right now. Not when he has something even juicier to sink his teeth into, and sadly it’s not me the way I want it to be. “Nanny told you that I’m being broody and too quiet,” he presses. “Or maybe you just want to know what level of a wreck I am after everything that happened.”
Oh shit. Abort mission. Abort freaking mission. Bail, bail, bail. “Kimmy’s glad you’re back,” I blurt. There’s no way I’m setting foot into that trap he just set out. “She might have a funny way of showing it, but I know she is. She missed you. Once she gets over her shock at all this, she’ll realize that.” At least, I hope.
“You’d be more convincing if your left eye weren’t twitching manically.”
I suck in a breath. How the heck can he see that behind my sunglasses? “Define manically.”
“Like it’s doing right now.”
“It’s not really doing anything.” Shit, it’s twitching like a bitch.
Because someone out there finally has my six, and I think that means the back side of me, Van lets the whole matchmaking thing go. “Anyway,” he sighs. “Nanny has a tiller. It’s in the garage, or so she says. It’s also going to need some work, and by work, I think that’s her polite way of saying it’s probably been sitting there rotting for twenty years.”
“What’s wrong with it?” I realize how stupid that sounds as soon as it comes out. “What’s not wrong with it?” I amend. There. Better.
“I’m going to start with the carb first, put fresh gas in it after that, and see if it runs after some love.”
“You could always just throw gas onto the carb. That seems like the best of both.”
Van struggles against a grin. “You’ve been listening to Nanny way too much.” He angles toward the front of the yard, his shoulders bunching as he pushes his hands deeper into his pockets. “I could use an extra set of hands if you want to help.”
I have to say that I’m shocked. It was the last thing I expected. “Really?”
“Yeah. If Nanny finds that I left you out here in the hot sun all alone, there’ll be hell to pay. At least the garage has some shade.”
“Ha. I knew you weren’t making that offer out of the goodness of your heart.” Oh shit, did I just say that out loud? Yup, I absolutely just did. Thankfully for me, Van finds it funny, and his smile grows from a lip twitch at the corners to a lip twitch in the middle of his lower lip.
He continues the pattern of silence as he beats a path to the front yard. He even tackles the bush monster beside the gate, holding the branches back for me so that I don’t get whipped in the face again. He’s so much stronger than I am, and that means I don’t get knocked nearly flat on my ass when the gate finally gives because he’s holding that open for me too.
Say what you want about Sullivan Carlson, but he appears to have impeccable manners… even if he’s not much for conversation.
Also, because I walked behind him the whole time, I got to check out his backside again. I’ve been up close and personal with that backside when he carried me over his shoulder into the house to escape the hornets. My eyes are naturally glued there again, against my will. I hope that the sunglasses hide the worst of my butt-checking-out intentions, but he never looks over his shoulder to catch me at it.