Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
I watched him like a hawk. His long slender fingers held the spoon delicately, and his red lips slid along the bowl of it like the man was deliberately baiting me. Clearly, he was not, because he continued talking about tea.
“And if you meet an English person who pours the milk into their teacup before the tea, they were most likely taught by the older generations who did that to protect the delicate china cups from the direct heat of the tea. It’s not necessary anymore, of course. But cultural habits are fascinating, aren’t they?”
He seemed to suddenly realize he’d been going on and on about tea. His face heated, and his eyelashes fluttered. He stared down at his mousse. “But enough about all that,” he said quietly to himself. “I’m sure you don’t need to know more tea trivia.”
Mikey looked over at me with an expression of desperation on his face. I’d been best friends with the guy long enough to interpret it.
Do something.
I cleared my throat and took my best shot by making up a total lie. “I heard that in ancient China, tea was used as currency, but I don’t know if that’s true. Do you?”
Truman’s eyes widened. “Um, yes? Yes, it was. The leaves were pressed into a brick, and it was scored on one side in case someone needed to break off a piece to make change.”
“Wow, really?” I asked before I could temper my reaction. “I had no idea.” Honestly, I’d made the whole thing up. Needless to say, his answer had surprised me.
Truman’s brows furrowed. “But you’re the one who told me.”
Mikey jumped in. Finally. “What did you think of the mousse? I added the lavender like you suggested.”
Truman’s face lit up again with a kind of relief and quiet pride. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe you took my suggestion. What if it had turned out terribly?”
Tiller laughed and tried to reach for Mikey’s unfinished mousse. “I would have eaten it anyway, so it’s all good.”
Mikey batted his hand away and curled a protective arm around the dessert. “You’ve surpassed your allotted carbs for the day.”
Truman let out a soft giggle and blushed. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed him watching my friends display affection toward each other, and it made me wonder about his own boyfriend. Why hadn’t Mikey and Tiller invited him here with Truman?
After remembering the man had a boyfriend, I spent the rest of the evening trying not to pay particular attention to him. I barely noticed how he smelled or how he shifted in his seat every time the subject of Aster Valley came up. I hardly noticed how his laugh got deeper when Tiller’s humor got dirtier. And I definitely didn’t pay much attention to the way he absentmindedly licked his spoon long after the last traces of chocolate had been scraped from his dish.
No, if I paid him too much attention, I’d want to rescue him from whatever the hell kind of trouble he was in, and it was definitely none of my business.
But later that night, after we’d enjoyed a nice dinner and plenty of good wine and Truman had left with his arms full of leftovers, I couldn’t help myself.
“Why did he act funny when you brought up the ski resort?”
Mikey sighed and settled into the vee between Tiller’s beefy thighs on the deep sofa. We were sitting in the den area attached to the big kitchen which seemed to be their favorite place to spend time. On my last visit, I’d quickly discovered they had this enormous lodge and barely used any of it. I wondered what it would be like when they turned it into a bed-and-breakfast. Mikey was eager to host guests and feed people.
Mikey swallowed a sip of wine. “Supposedly he’s the reason the resort was shut down in the first place. His dad managed the resort for the family who owned it. When he was only like five or something, Truman snuck his grandpa’s metal sled out to the slopes. I’m not sure of the details, but he got scared or something. Ran back home and left the sled behind. The snow fell all night, hiding the sled under fresh powder.”
I winced, immediately sensing where this was going.
“The first person down the slopes the following morning was Langdon Goode, one of the best and brightest Olympic hopefuls for the Salt Lake games in 2002. He hit the sled at full speed, and the resulting injuries ruined his career.”
Tiller shook his head. “Poor guy. Then his manager and sponsors sued the operation into bankruptcy. There went the Aster Valley Ski Resort. Meanwhile, the family had moved on to other things, or I think maybe they lived part-time in Chicago? That probably contributed to it as well. They kept the lodge here as a vacation home until the grandparents died last year.”