Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Teething babies,” Jupiter said with a sigh. “Lord, I love to hold and snuggle babies, but I do not miss those days. I didn’t think Birdie was ever gonna sleep through the night. That sassy mouth of hers keeps me on my toes, but at least she sleeps now.”
“Don’t you pick on my girl. She’s got spunk. She’s a Salazar,” Maeme said with pride in her voice.
Jupiter smiled as she took a drink from the glass in her hand.
“Mrs. Beck,” Annette said as the older lady entered the room. “Would you get something for Briar to drink and go ahead and bring out the appetizers? We can enjoy them while we all catch up.”
Mrs. Beck nodded, then looked toward me. “What can I get you, honey?”
I glanced around and saw what looked like sweet iced tea, lemonade, and water. “Lemonade would be great, thank you.”
“Storm didn’t tell me you were so gorgeous,” Lula Mae said beside me, turning in her seat slightly so she was facing me.
Storm had told her about me? When had she talked to Storm?
I forced a smile and relaxed against the back of my chair as if her comment hadn’t come as a surprise to me. “Well, thank you. I’ll have to scold him properly for leaving out that detail.”
She let out a delicate laugh and lifted one of her bare shoulders slightly. “Don’t scold him too bad. He did tell me that you were a singer and you played the guitar and the piano. I’m completely envious. I don’t have one musical bone in my entire body.”
She lifted her glass to her mouth, and I noticed her perfectly rounded French-tipped nails. I preferred the strawberry-margarita color I currently had on my longer, pointier nails.
“Maeme tells us Dovie is your sister,” Alma said, speaking up and making it so I had to look her way. There was clear disapproval in her gaze.
“She is,” I replied.
“You don’t look anything alike. You must each take after different parents.”
Nosy bitch.
I flashed my best smile. “We do indeed,” I agreed.
“Does she sing and play any instruments?” Alma asked.
I shook my head. “No. The music gene is mine alone.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “So, neither of your parents is musically inclined?”
How she made everything that came out of her mouth sound haughty was beyond me, but she managed it.
“Not that I know of,” I replied.
“That’s odd that you wouldn’t know something like that,” she pointed out.
“Let’s not grill the girl,” Maeme interrupted. “Why don’t you tell us about Wayon’s engagement? I know you’ve been anticipating it for some time now.”
Thank you, Maeme.
That seemed to bring a real gleam of excitement in the woman’s eye, and she began to gush about the ring.
“Wayon is my twin brother,” Lula Mae said, leaning closer to me. “He just proposed to his girlfriend of six years. Once they started dating at nineteen, I swear Momma began planning the wedding. Her momma was just as bad. It’ll be the wedding of the year in New Orleans.”
Rich people. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I just smiled. “Sounds like it.”
Mrs. Beck returned with my lemonade, and I took it, thanking her, then had a sip. All this visiting they were doing had apparently made me thirsty. Jupiter was asking about flowers the bride had chosen and went into some combination she’d seen done lately. It was all very boring.
“Aren’t the peach trees behind Storm’s house the most perfect thing ever?” Lula Mae asked me, ignoring the others talking about wedding plans.
I nodded and took another drink.
She blushed then and scrunched her nose prettily. “When we were younger, before he built his house out there, we used to go back there on his four-wheeler.” She glanced around, then tilted her head in my direction. “It’s where he gave me my first kiss.”
Kiss. Wait, just who was this woman? She lived in Louisiana. I’d thought she was family. Why would he be kissing a relative? Unless when they said family, they meant … family. Mafia family.
“So, you aren’t related?” I asked, needing clarification before my imagination took off.
She frowned. “God, no,” she replied. “Storm hasn’t told you about me?”
No, he had not. But why she thought he should have was not something I was gonna like. I was starting to piece things together now. Starting with Alma’s clear dislike of me on sight.
“We haven’t talked much about his past,” I said, trying not to sound pissed off or jealous.
“Oh,” she said and licked her lips again, looking as if maybe she had said something she shouldn’t have.
Little Miss Chatty wasn’t getting to go silent on me now. She’d sat me beside her to find out about me, but I didn’t think it was because she wanted to become friends.
“Well, it was a long time ago. First love, youth.” She rolled her eyes. “My daddy moved us here from Louisiana when I was twelve. We lived here for three years before we went back to New Orleans. Long distance and teenage romance don’t work.”