Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Anyway,” I pressed, “You’re one to talk. You weren’t exactly dating up a storm when I was growing up.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed in a crisp voice. Her Miss Martha voice, as I thought of it. “I didn’t date much when you were young, but that didn’t mean I lived like a nun either.”
Her words hung in the air between us as she took another dainty sip of tea. Wait, what did that mean? She hadn’t lived like a nun?
“Mom, who were you—” My hand shot up, stopping her in case she was actually going to answer. “Never mind. I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know.”
Oh god. Now my brain was racing through all the men my mother might have had a friends-with-benefits relationship with when I was a kid. And truly, the list was endless. She knew everyone in Sawyers Bend and more than a few people in Asheville. And what did any kid really know of their parents’ personal lives?
Like any child, I’d been wrapped up in my own life. If my mother said she had to run out to the store or had a book club meeting, it’s not like I would have pushed for more detail. Okay, whatever, Mom. See you later.
The idea that some of those times she’d been out on a booty call was just . . . Holy shit.
I put down my teacup, tilted my head to the side, and gave her a long look. She was only fifty-eight, and she’d always been a good-looking woman. Even as a kid, I knew that. Thick strawberry blond hair, a little redder than mine, and slightly less curly. Clear, gray eyes with long, thick lashes that were killer with a swipe of mascara.
I’d gotten my build from her: tall, with broad shoulders, a small waist, full hips, and, as they used to say, an ample bosom. We both dressed it down for work—a curvy figure is not the best asset as a housekeeper, especially when Prentice Sawyer owned the house you were keeping. She kept him far away from me as soon as I’d hit puberty. I knew exactly why, and I had always been grateful for it.
I’d had my own issues when Bryce moved into Heartstone, though Griffen had made it clear he had zero tolerance for that kind of crap. He’d told Bryce, but that asshole had taken one look at my tits in my modest uniform, a uniform I’d chosen myself, and had gotten grabby. I reported the incident to Griffen, as I promised I would, but my knee in Bryce’s nuts had solved the problem before Griffen needed to.
Yeah, my mom wouldn’t have trouble finding a man, not today and not two decades ago. She probably had no shortage of men willing to fulfill her needs.
I shook my head. I was done thinking about my mother and sex. I was glad she wasn’t lonely, but no. I made a stab at ending the conversation. “It’s just not on my radar right now, Mom. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe later. Maybe I’ll—”
I didn’t know what to say. Maybe I’d meet someone? I didn’t even want to look. I just wasn’t interested, and I didn’t see that changing any time soon, but I knew she wouldn’t accept that as my last word on the topic.
“Savannah, life is happening without you.” She shook her head, and the sadness in her eyes pinched my heart. I didn’t want her to be sad over me. I was fine. “You have so much to offer. I don’t like seeing you alone like this. Now that you’ve got your feet under you again—”
“But Mom,” I tried again, “I’m not alone. I have you and Nicky and Hope, plus Parker and the rest of the Sawyers. I have a job that I love, and I’m about to move into that adorable cottage that Parker’s turned into a perfect gem. It’s hard to believe it’s the same place you lived in when I was in college. Everything is great. Can’t I just coast for a while and enjoy this before I shake things up again?”
My mother’s cool hand covered mine, her fingers curling around my own. She squeezed, and I wished there wasn’t a table between us so I could hug her.
“Of course you can, honey,” she said. “I just want you to be happy. I’m not trying to push you into anything you’re not ready for. Just keep it in mind, all right? There’s a whole world out there. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life by yourself.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I lied.
I wasn’t going to keep it in mind. Not the dating part, at least. I meant what I said. I didn’t have it in me to be a good partner right now, and I didn’t want to share myself that way. Didn’t want to make room in my life for someone else’s needs.