Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
"Have fun,” she says, taking another gulp from her cup of coffee. “Good luck.” She turns back and returns to whatever paperwork she’s doing. We walk over to the golf cart, and in a matter of minutes, we are back home.
"I have to shower quickly,” I say, and he just nods at me.
"I’ll do the same,” he says. “We have time. Your appointment is not for another hour."
I walk toward the bedroom, not looking back at him. I take my shower in record time, my arm hurting less and less. I walk out and go toward the pair of clean jeans folded on the chair. I pick them up, and I’m about to put them on when I turn around and walk into the full closet. Grabbing one of the pair of jeans that I’ve been dying to try on—a light blue pair—I slip them on, wondering if it would be okay if I used these jeans also. I could pay for them if they say anything. I grab one of the white tank tops and slip it on. I slip on the white running shoes that I wore one day to the barn and got them just a touch dirty. I get up and look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time, I’m shocked.
My face is fuller than it’s ever been. My cheeks have little freckles that look like they are coming out. My arms have a bronze color, and my eyes, my eyes have never been so clear. I look down, not sure I want to think what I’m thinking.
I walk out and see that Quinn is in the kitchen wearing dark blue jeans with a white T-shirt, and his hair is wet from the shower. His eyes are focused on his phone. "Are you ready?" I ask. He looks up, and his mouth hangs open.
"You …" he says. “You look beautiful, Willow." I smile.
I want to tell him that it’s the new jeans, but all the words leave my head. “Thank you,” I say to him, and he gets up and walks to me, his hand going to my lower back like he always does. He opens the door for me and buckles my seat belt for me. "I can do it,” I say, and he stops moving. His face is in front of mine, and when I look into his eyes, I can see the little flecks of blue.
"Soon, you won’t need me for anything,” he says, his voice soft, and I swallow down the fear that is creeping up again. He moves away from me, shutting the door. I look out the window the whole time we drive.
Shirley spots us walking right away, and she throws up her hands. “Oh my goodness,” she says, walking toward us. “Who do we have here?” I laugh, seeing her, and she hugs me softly. “You look like a brand-new person.” She looks at me and then at Quinn. “What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been resting,” I say and look down.
“Not with that tan, you haven’t.” She laughs.
“I’ve been hanging around the barn,” I say and then look at Quinn.
“She’s been more than hanging out. She’s been working with the horses.”
Shirley’s eyes go big. “Oh, my.”
“I get them water and feed them,” I say, shaking my head.
“She mucks their stalls and makes sure they get exercise,” Quinn says, and when I look up at him this time, I see how proud he is.
“Well, I’ll be,” Shirley says. “Now let’s see how that shoulder is healing.”
Two hours later, I’m walking out of the hospital with no sling on. “Does it hurt?” Quinn says, looking over at me and stopping in the middle of the walkway. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I laugh. “You heard Shirley,” I say. “I just have to be careful.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think.” I laugh, and he just looks at me.
“You have a great, great laugh,” he says, and just the way his voice is causes my stomach to flip just a touch.
“I haven’t had much to laugh about before,” I say, and then he smiles.
“Well then, I think this calls for some celebration,” he says. “Let’s hit the diner.”
“What?” I ask him, almost whispering.
“We are going to go to the diner and have dinner,” he says, grabbing my hand and turning to walk toward the truck. I try to wrap my head around all of it, and when he opens the truck door for me, I stop in front of him.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say.
“It’s just a diner. Besides, I want to show you the town,” he says. I look at him, and I can feel him hiding something, but I just don’t know it yet. “If at any time you don’t feel comfortable, we can leave.”