Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
But . . . it hadn’t felt complicated tonight.
Being with him had actually felt easy, just the way it used to. Easier than it had ever felt with any other guy, because I didn’t have to hide anything. And I was proud of us. We’d managed to tread softly through a landmine of emotional baggage and come out the other side hand in hand.
He still made me laugh. He still had that cocky grin that made me want to take him down a notch. He still had the biceps, but now he had maturity too, the kind that comes with age and life experience and finally learning that life doesn’t always go the way you planned.
Sighing, I hugged my pillow.
Good thing he was a gentleman.
The next morning, I woke up at six-thirty and got in the shower, humming a tune and wondering if Tyler would have time for breakfast before running me up to Cloverleigh. I decided to text him and ask.
Me: Hey. How was your run? Do you have time for breakfast?
Tyler: You caught me. I skipped the early run and slept in. Totally down for breakfast.
Me: I know a great spot. See you at eight.
Since I wouldn’t have time to come home before Sadie’s rehearsal, I dressed a little more formally than usual, in a black and white gingham pencil skirt, black blouse, and heels. My hair still held some of its Beyoncé waves, but I knew it would be a busy day, so I tied it back in a ponytail, leaving just a few pieces loose around my face.
A few minutes before eight, I heard his knock. I raced down the steps to answer it, but when I hit the landing I made myself slow down, take a breath, chill. When my heart stopped pounding so fast, I opened the door.
Seeing Tyler on my doorstep made my pulse spike right back up again. He was dressed casually—jeans, sneakers, and a navy zip-up sweatshirt—and he hadn’t shaved. But the smile was what got to me.
“Morning,” he said, his eyes traveling over my outfit. “Damn. You look awesome. I’m a little underdressed.”
I laughed. “You’re fine. Thanks for coming to get me.”
“No problem. You ready?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I think it might rain soon, so if we don’t want to get soaked, we should move.”
I nodded. “Let me just grab my purse. Want to come in for a sec?”
“Sure.” He shut the door behind himself and looked around. “I like your place.”
“Thanks.” I moved toward my kitchen and dining area, which was open to the living room. From the counter I grabbed my keys and phone, tucking them into my purse.
He wandered toward the fireplace and studied the framed photographs on the mantel. “Whose wedding is this?”
“My youngest sister, Frannie’s.”
“She was a friend of Sadie’s, right?”
“Yes. She still is.”
“I feel like I recognize the groom too.”
“You probably do—he was two years ahead of us in school, and he played baseball. Declan MacAllister. Goes by Mack.”
“Oh, right.” He took the frame off the shelf and looked more closely. “Outfielder. Good arm.”
I walked over and stood beside him. “They got married last fall. He’s actually the CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. He had three daughters from a previous marriage—that’s who those young girls are.”
“Wow. Three girls.” He set the photo back on the mantel.
I laughed. “She’s trying to convince him to have more.”
“He’s probably a great dad.”
“He is.” I threw my bag over my shoulder. “Okay, ready to go.”
Outside, the sky was completely overcast and the air was slightly humid. Off to the west, I could see dark gray clouds moving toward us and knew Tyler was right about the rain coming. He unlocked the passenger door and opened it for me.
“Thanks,” I said as I climbed in. “The place I want to take you for breakfast is Frannie’s pastry shop. But they have eggs and sandwiches and all kinds of things. Plus, the coffee is amazing.”
“Sounds good. Just tell me how to get there.”
Once he was behind the wheel, I gave him directions and he nodded, but I could tell he was distracted by something. He leaned toward the driver’s side door, elbow on the window, hand rubbing his jaw.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Fine.”
But he went silent again for the rest of the ride downtown—so silent that I knew intuitively something was wrong. We parked along Main Street and hurried down the block, thunder rumbling softly over our heads. Tyler opened the pastry shop door for me just as the first fat, heavy raindrops were starting to splat on the sidewalk.
Coffee Darling was always busy in the morning, but we snagged a table for two toward the back. The server came over right away and asked us what we’d like to drink. Caitlan, her name tag read.
“Coffee please,” I said. “With cream.”