Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Stop it,” I laugh. “Nothing happened. Branch brought Finn home pretty late and I happened to be up working on my blog. We sat on the porch and I had some wine and he had some lemonade and that was it.”
“No touching?”
“No touching. I promise. I’d tell you.” Closing my eyes, the lines of his chiseled torso greet me.
“Let’s put on our bikinis and head to the lake. That should help your cause.”
“First of all, it’s not my cause. He’s worse than Callum!”
“He’s hotter than Callum.”
“Second,” I insist, shooting her a look, “weren’t you just telling me yesterday to stay away from guys like him?”
“I said nothing about wide receivers. That’s a whole different game.” She looks at me like I’m crazy for not following along. “Think about it. Their job is to hold on to the ball at all costs. They’ll take a hit, get pushed out of bounds, but what do they not do? They don’t fumble. They score, and baby, when he scores, you better give me every little detail.”
“Oh, my God,” I groan, swinging my legs out of bed. “It’s way, way too early for this.”
“But,” she sing-songs, “you’re out of bed. That’s a win.”
“You better have coffee made.”
After a pit stop in the bathroom, I make my way into the kitchen. Branch is sitting at the island, laughing at something Finn said. My brother is standing in the kitchen next to Poppy, coffee mugs in all of their hands.
“Well, good morning,” Finn says. “I was starting to think you were avoiding us.”
“I was up late working,” I say, pointedly not looking at Branch while I make a cup of coffee for myself.
“How’s the blog?” Finn asks.
“Good, more or less. I’m a little behind from being sick last week, but once I get these last couple of posts made, I’ll be caught up. I was hoping to sit on the beach today and see if I can bang them out.”
Branch begins to choke, causing us all to jump. When I turn around, he’s sitting at the table, his eyes wide, trying to get himself composed. “Sorry,” he coughs. “Too much creamer.” He glances at me, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You have a problem with me completing my tasks today?” I ask, pressing my lips together to keep from smiling.
“Nope. I hope you bang them all out.”
Poppy’s laugh beside me catches my attention and makes me realize she and Finn weren’t paying a bit of attention to Branch’s comment. With a shake of my head, I turn to my brother.
“What are you guys doing today?” I ask. “I thought you and Branch might take the boat out or something.”
“We might. But I need to run in and pay my bill at Crave first, and unless Machlan’s machine is running which you know it’s probably not, I’ll have to head to the ATM and get cash.”
“Can you take that much cash from an ATM? Isn’t there a limit?” Branch jokes.
“Fuck off,” Finn says, turning his attention to Poppy. “Hey, uh, didn’t you say you needed something from town?”
“Oh, uh, yes,” she says, thinking on the fly. “I do. A lot of things.”
I look at my friend. “What could you possibly need from town?”
“Oh, just some things I couldn’t fit in my suitcase. Essentials, you know.”
“Such as . . .” I goad.
“Diet Coke,” she offers. “Sunscreen. A fucking phone charger, okay? Does it matter?”
Branch and I die laughing as her cheeks turn red.
“You are so full of shit,” I say, catching my breath as she struts out of the room.
“I’d ask you to go,” my brother says to Branch, “but, you know . . .”
“No worries. I’ll stay here and . . . behave.”
“I’m gonna trust you fear me enough to do just that,” Finn says, clasping him on the shoulder. “You good, sis?”
“I’m good. Tell Machlan I said hi. And if Peck’s there, tell that bastard he owes me. He’ll know what for.”
“Peck?” Poppy asks, sticking her head around the corner. “Is that someone’s real name?”
“It’s a nickname,” Finn laughs, guiding her towards the door. “We’ll let you figure out what for.”
My toes wiggle into the soft, golden sand as I close my notebook. The sun is warm, but not too hot as I sit on the beach and finally get some work done.
The words came fast and easy today. That doesn’t happen often. The ideas I had for blog posts came to life and I mapped out an entire fall series in the last hour.
My chin lifts to the sun and I close my eyes and revel in the satisfaction of feeling my life get back on track. Since my break-up, I’ve spent the last three months in chaos. Moving from Columbus, getting settled, and finding more freelance writing work to support my new digs in Chicago left me exhausted and uninspired.