Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Nell grins up at me, her eyes far too knowing for such a little girl.
“You look kinda winded, Miss Philia. You got asthma? My friend Sadie does. She’s got a nee-hale-er.”
“Inhaler,” I correct absently, then shake my head. “And no, I don’t. Grant just startled me, that’s all. I’m fine. You didn’t finish your homework, did you?”
She bats her eyelashes. “I’ll finish it after the movie. It’s history tonight, easy as pie. I wanna pick something fun to wear.”
“Uh-huh.” I eye her skeptically, holding out my pinky. “No trying to stay up late to watch cartoons. Homework, then bed. Promise me?”
Nell hooks her pinky in mine.
“Pinky promise one hundred percent.”
Laughing, I tug my hand free and tickle her lightly. “Go on and get dressed.”
She runs off with a messy giggle and disappears into her room. I look after her, feeling a smile spread across my lips.
I don’t know how I fell into this situation.
But it’s nice.
Feeling a little calmer, I shower off quickly, deliberately cranking it to cold before I wimp out and switch it to hot water.
When I’m done, I wrap myself in a towel and bolt for the guest room, skittering past Grant’s door.
If he ever sees me naked, I can’t be looking like a wet cat with my hair jabbed out everywhere.
If, huh?
Getting awful hopeful there, girl?
Shut up, brain.
Flushed, I shut myself in the guest room and lean back against the door, pressing a hand over my fluttering heart.
Holy hell, just what am I hoping for tonight?
I shake myself from my thoughts and rummage through my things until I find a pair of low-rise jeans that aren’t too low for a family film. They’re comfortably snug but not skintight and a few little rips over the thighs could be innocent or double as a subtle tease.
My white silk camisole hangs loosely, paper-thin when it catches the light. I pair it with an open-knit cardigan that ties across my breasts, a sunny yellow shade. Like that’ll convince the thin thing to actually keep me warm tonight.
Everyone and their grandma keeps distracting me from getting that coat.
I pull on a pair of cute brown leather ankle boots and step out to meet them.
He’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Nell, who’s dressed up in pink, complete with a pair of strap-on butterfly wings. She has Mr. Pickle tucked under her arm, while Grant—
Oh my God.
I don’t think I’ve seen him clean up so nice since he went stag to his senior prom with Ethan.
I don’t know where he even finds clothes that fit him, but his button-down shirt fits like it was tailored just right, skintight with the buttons straining over his chest.
The pale blue brings out the swarthiness of his skin and the rich darkness of his hair.
His dark blue boot-cut jeans look sharp, well worn and casual, clinging to his hips and strong thighs. The black leather of his belt completes the look with the same coarse pattern as the leather of his boots.
He looks like a rough and tumble rancher ready to ride out with six-shooters at dawn, a gunslinger’s dream.
Especially when he has Ethan’s hat again, clasped against his chest as he tips me a polite bow.
Oh, my.
...it wouldn’t be a night out with Grant without a little hint of heartbreak, would it?
“Ophelia,” he says.
It does weird things to me—him saying my name with that hat clasped in hand and that look on his face that says he’s only seeing me.
I try not to go to pieces as I pause on the stairs, drinking him in before I force myself to look away and refocus on Nell as I descend.
“So this is your prettiest outfit, huh?”
She smiles so wide I see the gaps in her teeth. “My absolute princess-est outfit ever.”
I give Grant a skeptically amused look.
He only shakes his head.
“Don’t try to argue. She’ll strip and streak down Second Avenue if you make her change.”
“...let’s avoid that. I—”
I stop cold as Grant holds out his arm.
Oh, crap, it’s happening.
This really is a bona fide date, isn’t it?
Maybe it’s a family date, sure, but it’s a date.
Swallowing my nerves, I slip my hand into Grant’s arm—and suddenly find my other hand occupied with a tiny set of fingers.
The trust in the gesture melts me like butter.
Together, we start toward the door until Grant stops at the coatrack, frowning.
“You still didn’t buy a jacket, did you?”
“Um, I forgot?” I press my lips together, trying not to smile.
Grant gives me the fiercest look.
While Nell watches us with a giggle, her uncle yanks his fur-lined leather jacket down from the coatrack and pulls it open for me with a commanding glare.
Wear it, he tells me without words.
I blink at him.
Welp. I’m never going to stop blushing at this rate.
After a moment, I let go of Nell’s hand and slip my arms into the jacket sleeves, letting Grant wrap it around me.