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)
Grabbing her waist, I pulled her closer. “This is why you need to go change into a sundress and get rid of the panties.”
Her laugh made my chest tighten. She was happy, and I fucking loved that I had done that.
“Dovie is upstairs. I’m not trying to have sex. But I might be trying to butter you up before I tell you something,” she said with a slight frown.
“My cock is hard, so I’d say I’m buttered up,” I replied.
That got me a half smile from her.
“Okay, so, today …” she started, and I knew then what this was about. She was going to tell me where she’d gone and what she’d done. I almost stopped her and admitted to the fact that I knew this already, but I didn’t. I needed to see just how honest she was going to be.
“I went to a pawn shop in Atlanta.” She paused and studied me, gauging my reaction.
“Go on,” I said.
“And, well, I had two pairs of diamond earrings and a diamond-and-sapphire bracelet that had been, uh, given to me once. And I had been holding on to them for their value only. I wasn’t attached or anything. But just the other day, Dovie went shopping with your sister, and I didn’t have money to give her. I have one credit card I’ve never used. It is for emergencies, and I gave it to her. She barely used it. I need cash. My own money. And if I can’t work, then, well, I just need my own money.”
When I was sure she was done, I nodded. “Okay.”
I wanted to strip her clothes off, bend her over the sofa, and fuck her for telling me the truth, but I refrained in case Dovie did come downstairs.
“Okay? So, you’re not mad?”
“No, I’m not mad.”
But I wished she’d take money from me. That was something we had to work on. I’d give her my Amex Black if she’d fucking take it.
“Then, since you’re in such a good mood, perhaps we could discuss my getting a job.”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes. “UGH!”
I ran my hands over her ass and squeezed. “Why did you go snooping in the shed?” I asked her, curious as to what she had been looking for.
“A ladder. I need to pick some peaches.”
“There are still a few in the kitchen,” I pointed out.
“I need more. I wanted to make a cobbler.”
Slapping her ass once, I took her waist and moved her off my lap. “That’s the magic word. How many do you need?” I asked, standing up and heading for the door.
“I guess I’m making a cobbler,” she replied in an amused tone.
“Hell yeah, you are.”
“Get me about five good-sized ones.”
I grabbed my hat off the back of the recliner where I’d left it and put it on my head before going to pick my girl some peaches.
• Eighteen •
“If this is going to become X-rated, I’m staying for the show.”
Briar
I listened as Dovie came down the stairs and took another drink of wine from my glass.
I’d decided to go ahead and tell Dovie tonight and not wait. I was afraid I’d forget and say something around her about it on accident with all these appointments and plans Storm had already made for her. When I’d told Storm that I was going to do it, he’d said he’d run to the stables for a while and give us privacy.
Part of me wanted him to be here with us, but the other was afraid of her reaction to her mother’s death. I didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t react the way she needed to if Storm was here. I still couldn’t believe he’d done all this.
I had to stop worrying about this Lula Mae thing. The man loved me. He wasn’t supposed to be marrying some other woman. No man would do all this for a woman he didn’t want to keep.
I would not let Lula Mae get in my head again. Storm didn’t deserve that. He’d lied about one thing, and although it had been completely manipulative, I forgave him for it. I had to forget it.
Dovie walked into the living room and looked around, then back at me. “Where is Storm?” she signed.
“He had some things to do at the stables,” I told her.
She walked over to the sofa across from me and sat down, then curled her feet up beside her.
“My cobbler turned out really good. You want a piece?” I asked.
“I’ll get some later,” she signed.
This was it. Time to talk.
“I have some news. Big news,” I told her, setting my glass down on the coffee table. Then, I reached for the folder with all the guardianship documents. “I’m kinda nervous about telling you because it doesn’t start out with good news.”
She frowned. “Do we have to leave?” she signed.