Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
The doorbell rings, and he stills. My laughter fading as I try to catch my breath.
“I better get that.”
The bell rings again as I slide off the bed, grabbing my robe from the back of my door and leaving the room. Dried mud crunches under my bare feet, and I make a mental note to mop. A bright pink outline comes into view, blurred by the glass. Unlocking the door, I open it, and Tenly’s head snaps in my direction.
“Morning!” She beams like a kindergarten teacher with too much energy. I imagine her breaking out into song at any moment, waving her hands around.
“Good morning, Tenly.” I pull the sash to my robe a little tighter and muster a sleepy smile.
“I was checking my mail yesterday and saw the commotion—are you okay?” Her brows furrow with concern.
“Yeah. Everything is fine. My ex came to pick up my daughter. He and Heston didn’t hit off.”
“Is the boyfriend here?” she whispers. She points down to where we’re standing, reminding me of when my mother would yell at me to get over here right now.
“Someone say my name?” I look over my shoulder. Heston stands behind me in just his jeans and a smirk. His hair is tousled, giving off a fresh bedhead vibe.
“Yeah, I was just telling Tenly about the disagreement between you and Cam and how everything is fine.”
He silently nods, glancing at Tenly for a moment before focusing on me again. “I’m going to make us some coffee.”
“Oh, yes. Everything is on the counter.”
“Nice meeting you, Tenly,” he says before walking away. The man is all charm.
Tenly looks over to me, her eyes wide, her cheeks painted pink.
“Wow. He’s really something, huh?” Raising her hand, she rubs the nape of her neck. Her reaction to Heston doesn’t sit well with me. She’s too eager and interested in him. I clinch my jaw to keep from making a fool of myself and spewing something hateful. I might just be jealous and reading her wrong, but deep inside I have my eye on her.
She’s married. Why is she so infatuated with Heston? Maybe she’s not happily married and on the prowl. I do remember Owen and Flynn saying something about her husband cheating on her.
“Anyway—” she shakes her head from whatever dirty daydream she conjured up, “—I stopped by to tell you about the party our block has at the end of the summer. Everyone gathers in the street. There’s food, music, games…The only thing is everyone is required to bring a dish to pass.”
“Oh, okay. Sounds great.” Her lips roll onto one another, her expression unreadable.
“Okay. And the rule is that it can’t be store bought.”
“Got it.” I grab the door with my right hand and start to slowly close it.
Her face scrunches, as if she has something to say but isn’t sure she wants to. I stare back at her, waiting for her to spill whatever’s on her mind. Silence falls between us. Just as I open my mouth to tell her goodbye, she holds up her index finger.
“Rain, you know what I was thinking? Maybe you should do a pie.” She suggests with a coy voice and perturbed look on her face as if my cooking is horrid. Biting my cheek, I keep myself from spewing some colorful language. I hate cooking anyway.
“A pie, it is.”
Standing uncomfortably, her gaze travels over my shoulder, gawking at Heston. Jealousy rears its ugly head and anger mounts inside my chest. I want to remind her she’s married and to stop eye-fucking a man I have in my house.
“Okay, thanks for stopping by. Bye Tenly,” I say briskly, and shut the door in her face. With my hand on the doorknob, I lower my head and take a deep breath.
“Neighborhood princess?” Heston asks. I turn around to get a cup of coffee.
“She definitely has an opinion about everything. Based on her yard, I think she’s part of the HEA, so I have to play nice. I don’t need to make enemies while settling in.”
He shakes his head. “Used to have one just like her in my building. So, you’re going to bake a pie?” he asks with humor, and I resist the urge to cringe. The fact that I can’t buy one from a store makes this a chore, but the party sounds fun and having community is exactly why I moved out of an apartment, where the closest thing you got was stomping on the floor and shouting for them to turn their music down at eight in the morning.
“Hey, I can do it!” I smile. “It just might take me a couple tries.”
He laughs, stepping away from the coffee and coming to me. With his arms on my shoulders, he looks down at me with soft eyes.
“You should do a cherry pie. Everyone loves cherry.” The song “Cherry Pie” plays in the back of my head at his comment.