Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Casey.” She says his name, and he looks at me.
“I didn’t do anything.” I hold up my hands.
“I want to go out,” Olivia says, and Casey puts his head back and rubs his face. “I want to get out of here and go out and see people.”
“You see people here,” Casey says, going to the fridge and grabbing a water bottle. “You can come down to the barn.”
“Casey.” She gets up, and I have to say she is dressing more country. She wears her tight blue jeans and tank top. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she has just a touch of mascara on. I want to point out the ways she has actually changed in the past four days, but I’m not sure she is ready for it. “I want to go out and I don’t know, dance.”
Casey looks over at me. “Listen, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“We can go …” She snaps her fingers. “Line dancing.”
Casey and I both groan. “There has to be a bar in this town.”
“Oh, there is a bar, all right,” I say, and her eyes light up. “We actually can go.”
“I don’t think you want to go there,” Casey says, avoiding my eyes.
“Oh, come on,” I say, getting up. “I know that I’ll see people.”
“Kallie.” He says my name, but Olivia puts her hand on his mouth.
“Casey, I have cabin fever,” she tells him. “I used to live in LA where I sat in traffic for four hours a day, and I am sadly missing it.”
“She’s right,” I say, and he looks as though he is going to admit defeat.
“You are going to be there with us,” Olivia says. “We can’t be safer since you are going to be there. Come on, cowboy.”
“Fuck me,” he says and looks at me. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I don’t think it can get worse than the diner,” I say. He starts to talk, and I hold up my hand. “I don’t think I have anymore tears to cry. I’m dehydrated. There is nothing I can do to change the past.”
“There is just something,” he says, and Olivia stops him this time by grabbing his face and kissing him. “Darlin’.”
“What time do I have to be ready?” Olivia asks, clapping her hands with excitement. “I don’t know if I have anything to wear.”
“You have seventy-five pounds of clothes all over my closet,” Casey says. “I’m sure there is something there.”
“I can move it to the other closet if you like.” She folds her arms over her chest, and he glares at her. “I can also sleep in the room also.” She turns and grabs her glass of wine, heading to the master bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he shouts.
She looks over her shoulder. “I’m going to finish my wine.” She smiles. “Then I’m going to nap because I’m going to get dressed up and dance my ass off tonight.” She laughs all the way to the bedroom.
“How much trouble can she possibly get into?” Casey looks at me, and I shut my laptop.
“You do see what she looks like, right?” I ask, and he doesn’t say anything. “You also see what she wears.” His jaw gets tight. “She is friendly with everyone. She did bring muffins to you and the boys in the barn.”
“I think I need backup,” he says and grabs his hat. “I don’t want you to encourage her.”
“If you think anything I say can encourage her”—I point at the bedroom—“then you are so oblivious.” I shake my head. “I’m going home.”
“You can work here,” he tells me, walking out with me and closing the door behind me.
“I need a nap,” I say. “Apparently, I’m going to have to dance my ass off tonight with her.”
“This is a bad idea,” he says, and I look at him.
“Then why did you agree to it?” I laugh and walk away from him.
“Because it made her smile,” he says, and I turn around, walking backward.
“Hope you know what you’re doing, big brother,” I say, and he shakes his head.
“It’s only temporary,” he says, turning to walk back to the barn. I walk back to the house, and the smell of banana bread fills the house. My mother looks up from the oven where she’s placing the muffins on the plate when I walk into the room.
“Mom, I swear by the time I go home, I’m going to have gained twenty pounds,” I say, putting down my laptop and walking over to the bowl that holds the muffins from this morning.
“You can use a little bit of meat,” she tells me and takes off the oven mitt. “Are you done for the day already?”
“No.” I take a piece of the muffin top and toss it into my mouth. “I am going to take a nap and then work after.”