Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“I missed you, Maggie. It’s been too long.”
Maggie made a scoffing noise. “Oh please, you charmer.”
Gage chuckled. “I’m picking up some trees my mother ordered that couldn’t be delivered until this weekend. Our landscaping crew is there today though, ready to plant, so here I am.”
Maggie nodded. “The nursery is installing landscaping in three new builds this week. Chase Dooley was in yesterday and said they’re stretched thin. Coffee?”
“Please. It’s fine, it gave me a good excuse to visit. How have you been?”
“Great. We’re updating and expanding the kitchen beginning September first. Norm is finally getting the Top Chef setup he’s always wanted, just in time to think about retiring.” She turned her head and said the last part so Norm could hear. But then turned and winked at us.
“I don’t believe in retirement,” Norm called back. “I’m going to take my final breath right here standing at this griddle.”
“Oh, that’ll be swell for business.” Maggie rolled her eyes as she grabbed menus for a couple sitting at the end of the counter.
“What’s new, Hale?” Gage asked when Maggie had walked away.
“Not a whole lot.”
We sat in silence for a minute. “What can you tell me about Haven Torres?”
My muscles tensed. I took a sip of my coffee, setting it down slowly. “Why don’t you ask her what you want to know on your dinner date?” The words felt strangely acidic in my throat.
He paused. “I will. But I wanted to get your take on her. We’ve always had similar taste in women.”
I almost laughed. We’d competed over women in the past, both of us “winning” about as equally. What he didn’t know was that he’d already “won” Haven. Or at least, he’d won her interest. I wouldn’t tell him that though. I’d told her I’d help her get him to notice her with a faux competition, despite that it made my gut churn.
You’re taking a hiatus from women, remember?
At least, anything more than an uncomplicated, moonlit rendezvous.
I angled my body toward him. “She’s…different.” I let the word hang suggestively, watching Gage to see what he did with it.
“That’s exactly what I think,” he agreed on an exhale. “God, I’ve grown so bored with nothing but women who…worship me and yet don’t really know me at all.” He looked away as if considering those poor, worshipful fools who hung on his every word and yet heard nothing he said. The interesting thing was, I could relate. I understood exactly what he was saying. And I didn’t necessarily like that fact.
“She has this weird thing for possums,” he muttered, his brows going in opposite directions as though he was still trying to work that one out. “But she’s funny and charming and”—he paused, scratching the back of his neck in thought—“that hair. God, can you even imagine?” His expression had suddenly gone sort of dreamy and unfocused, and I knew exactly what he was imagining. That hair wrapped around his fist as he—I shut the image down, slamming it hard into the floor and stomping it once for good measure. Unfortunately, he was still talking. “She has this beauty that sneaks up on you. You know, like”—he clapped his hands together suddenly, causing me to jostle the coffee I’d just been bringing to my mouth—“boom! Ambush.”
Oh, I knew. I pictured the way she looked in the morning as she cared for her plants, tipping a watering can, peace in her expression, tenderness even. The light of sunrise washing over her, glinting through her curls. The strap of her tank top falling slowly down her shoulder as I watched in quiet awe. I took a slow sip of the lukewarm brew. It was suddenly bitter and unpalatable. Ambush. That was a good way to put it. I’d stepped on the bomb that was Haven Torres. In some ways, I felt as though I’d been blown to smithereens. I was desperately trying to put the pieces back together. Or maybe I was lying there, happily scattered. Stupidly scattered. Maybe I never wanted to be put back together. At least not in the same order. God, I didn’t even know anymore.
And we were just friends.
But I knew what she tasted like. Sounded like. How soft she was.
Hiatus, Hale. Hiatus.
“The problem is,” Gage droned on, “she’s only here temporarily. And I’m ready for something more long-term. Something that has the potential to become serious.”
“You’re kidding. You, the unattainable Gage Buchanan is looking to get serious?” I said it like a four-letter word.
He gave a short laugh that died quickly. “Yeah.” He nodded, as if he was still trying to talk himself into what he was saying. “Yeah, it’s time. A man can’t just screw around—pardon the expression—forever.” He looked at me a little sheepishly. “I really was sorry to hear about you and Phoebe. It seemed like maybe you might have been considering settling down too. At least, that’s what the rumor was.” I glanced at him to see his expression was genuinely sympathetic, the same way it’d been when he brought it up at the blueberry festival.