Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
My eyes went wide, and my jaw fell.
“So I expect Jake is telling Cal about what we did last night, and maybe making sure he knows you’re in training panties.”
My breath went raggedly in and out of my parted lips.
“I know it’s embarrassing, hon,” Shelly said, with a kind smile on her face, “but it’s for the best. It’s going to help Cal give you what you need, if he’s as good a match as the New Modesty folks say he is.”
“But…” I whispered, my brain whirling so quickly I had no idea which of the gazillion possible objections I could make. Shelly’s brow furrowed a little, and my hands tightened on the jar with the flowers as I twitched my hips, instinctively and embarrassingly trying to move my backside as far away from the office door as I possibly could.
I rushed the word out, the one that seemed like it could save me, at that moment.
“Ma’am… I… please?”
Shelly shook her head. “You know it’s for your own good, honey. It’s just going to take you a little while to figure out why, I guess.”
My lip had worked its way between my teeth, and I chewed on it anxiously, my head shaking slowly as my eyes went between my foster mother’s face and the closed door that hid Jake and Cal and muffled their words. Suddenly the soft, indistinct murmur of deep voices saying serious words gave way to boisterous masculine laughter, even more worrying from my point of view.
“I’m…” I said, feeling an instant need to get out of there, so I wouldn’t see the expressions on Jake’s and Cal’s faces as they emerged from the office. “I’ll put these in my room, ma’am.”
I turned and almost ran for the stairs, the water in the makeshift vase sloshing almost over the edge.
“Come right back on down,” Shelly called after me, as if sensing that my feelings about leaving my room once I had reached it were decidedly mixed. “Don’t keep Cal waiting.”
When Cal went to open the door of his truck for me, I didn’t understand.
“Wait,” I said. “You’re driving, right?”
Cal laughed. “Life in the city really is different, isn’t it?” he asked. For a moment I thought he might be making fun of me, but in the twilight I could see what looked like a gentle smile on his face. He opened the door and held it wide.
How many fucking times was I going to blush tonight? I hoped that maybe with the sun almost down, and providing a particularly rosy kind of sunset as well, Cal might not notice.
“Oh,” I said, feeling my mouth twist to the side. I still had that feeling of detached, floaty observation, but at this point I felt like I might almost be enjoying it, even though it made me wonder whether I would notice if I happened, say, to fall flat on my face before I could get to the door of Cal’s truck.
Euphoria. Was that the word? In any case, the revelation that the man who had brought me wildflowers had actually just opened the car door for me heightened the sense of unreality, and the magical glow of dusk over the broad, flat cornfields did nothing to dispel it.
“No one’s ever opened a door for you, on a date?” Cal asked, as I started to climb in. He didn’t sound like he meant to tease me, or express real disbelief. I felt a frown pass quickly across my face as I understood that he meant to start a conversation. It seemed bizarre, even to me, but I realized that I couldn’t remember a guy just starting a conversation with me, any more than I could remember them opening a door for me.
“Nope,” I told him, trying to make it sound completely casual, like it didn’t matter to me at all, or even like I’d rather have opened the door myself. Cal closed the door with a thunk and walked around to the driver’s side. When he opened the door and started to climb in, something in my mind decided that I couldn’t really be sure he understood just how casually I viewed this whole thing.
“I mean, like, I guess Jake opened the door of his truck for me yesterday, so it’s, you know, not a big deal at all.”
That didn’t sound right, either. Cal didn’t respond; he had his keys in his hand and I watched him insert one of them into the ignition.
“I mean,” I went on, suddenly unable to stop the nervous flow of my words, “I guess I never had a guy open a door on a date, but that’s because, you know, I’ve never really been on a…”
I felt like an idiot. How could I have revealed that to Cal, my court-appointed ‘suitor’? I wanted him to think I was a sophisticated urban girl, didn’t I? Much too, you know, urban for a small-town mechanic. I needed to change the subject right away.