Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I held up two fingers and said, “Scout’s honor.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s with three fingers. Not two. But thank you.”
Bram and Jeremiah left shortly after that, leaving me with Dory who was looking a bit lost.
“I haven’t been away from him in over a week,” she grumbled darkly. “He’s always there. Doing his work from home. Work that can’t even be done from home. Then, when he can’t do it from home, I’m forced to go with him. He’s smothering me.”
She ripped off her long-sleeved shirt and threw it onto the counter next to a tray of cupcakes for tomorrow.
“God, I could use a beer. Or some marijuana. Or a nap. One of those three.” She paused. “And I’ve never even drank beer or done marijuana. But I feel like, at this point, they would be fantastic. Stupid pregnancy.”
“You’re not excited?” I questioned.
I hadn’t actually gotten to know her all that well, but it was automatically my assumption that everyone was excited to find out they were pregnant.
Granted, I grew up with a very traditional family. My parents, sisters, and any friends that we had, were all ecstatic to bring another child of God into the world.
Dory sighed, then sank down onto the nearest chair. Which happened to be slightly covered with flour since I’d used that chair to hold a fifty-pound bag of it earlier.
She didn’t seem to care.
“I’m not not excited,” she admitted. “Can we be best friends? That way I can tell you everything without worry?”
My brows rose. “Sure.”
She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Bram doesn’t love me. He loves someone else.”
I blinked, surprised by her answer.
Then I started to laugh, unable to help myself.
“If we’re best friends.” I cleared my throat, trying to compose myself. “Then I’m going to give it to you straight.”
She was scowling hard now at me. Not happy with my laughter.
“Bram loves you. I could tell by the way that he hesitated to leave you with me here, knowing I might have some killer on the loose aimed directly at me.”
She cleared her throat. Then scrubbed her face hard with her hands.
“Bram loves the idea of me. He loves the thought of protecting me—and not just from you. I have my own shit that follows me around, and trust me, one day I’ll tell you. But I’m not even ready to tell my therapist yet. Let alone someone that could hurt me,” she grumbled.
“I would never hurt you,” I told her honestly. “I’ve had a lot of hurting in my life, and I’m over it. I won’t do it to you, and I won’t do it to myself anymore.”
Her beautiful eyes locked on mine for a few long seconds before she said, “Well, if you’re interested in knowing, I’m telling my therapist this week. Maybe you can come listen. That way, we can see if we’re compatible as friends or not. Oh, and make sure that you want to actually be friends with me after you hear what I have to say.”
I had zero clue what to say to that.
But I knew that I liked Dory.
“If I’m not working, I’ll be there.” I shrugged. “Then, after we’re done, we can compare stories.”
She smiled. “I was completely joking… but it would be nice to have someone holding my hand. I think I really like you, Gracie.”
I grimaced. “I can’t believe he calls me that. I have always gone by Gracelynn my entire life. It’s weird.”
“It’s cute,” she disagreed. “And at least you have a cute first name and nickname. My real name is Dorcas. How horrible is that?”
“I actually kind of like it,” I admitted. “I’m really into old timey names. My hope, when I was younger, was to name my daughters Lucille and Ethel. Though, that was only if I could have twins.” A thought occurred to me. “Not that I’ll ever have any. Jeremiah had a vasectomy. I won’t be having any.”
“And how do you feel about that?” she asked right as we heard the loud stomping of boots right outside the alleyway door. “Don’t answer that. Then they’ll know exactly what we were talking about.”
I looked at the door, then looked at the alarm that I forgot to set.
“Shit,” I said as I hurried to set it. Only after I was done did I find my own seat on the counter across from where Dory was sitting. “Let’s act like that was set the entire time.”
She held up her pinkie and said, “Pinkie promise.”
And the rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch, and I realized that I might’ve found my person.
She didn’t care that I had a lot of emotional baggage, and I didn’t care that she saw a therapist twice a week sometimes to deal with a traumatic childhood involving her brother.
Also, by the end of our coffee date that happened in the kitchen of my workplace, I realized that I was rooting for Bram to win.