Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I have no idea.”
“He had twelve kids.” She looks over at me with her eyes going big. “Twelve.” Her voice goes even higher. “His son, William, was born in February, and his daughter was born in March. Which is strange because they both have the same mother, so, again, there could be errors on the dates if someone was having a bad day. Or you know when you get to work on a Monday but you forget it’s a Monday and keep writing the date from the Friday before. I don’t know how accurate this whole ‘let’s write it down in the book’ is, but it’s the only thing I have to go by.”
I laugh at that last remark, but I’m so intrigued by everything she is finding out. “That’s incredible,” I say, and she shrugs her shoulder.
“I’ll show you the whiteboard after dinner.”
“The whiteboard in your room?” I ask. She rolls her eyes as I dip the chicken in the egg, then the flour, then back in the egg, and then in the breadcrumbs before placing it in the dish to go into the frying pan.
“I’ll stay down here in the kitchen while you go up there and look at it.”
“You are going to leave me alone in your bedroom?” I turn to grab a pan. “I might snoop.” I step closer to her, seeing her chest rising and falling faster than it did a couple of minutes ago. Her eyes look down at the potatoes in front of her, trying not to pay any attention to me. But I can see how affected she is. “I might even try to find something that is purple.”
Chapter 19
Sierra
“You are going to leave me alone in your bedroom?” He moves away from me, and I want to watch him, but I force myself to focus on what I’m doing in front of me. “I might snoop.” He steps closer to me, his front very close to my side, and I try to ignore his smell that is now filling my senses. I look down at the cutting board with the potatoes waiting to be cut, but I know with one touch from him, I’ll forget it all. “I might even try to find something that is purple.”
I look over at him, his eyes light from joking with me. “I threw it away,” I lie to him.
“You are lying.” He tilts his head to the side and kisses my lips softly before turning back. “When you lie, you hold your breath after you say the lie.”
I gasp, “I do not.” I turn to face him as he walks over to the stove, putting the pan on it before looking for the oil. He finds it and puts it beside the pan before coming back to me and standing toe to toe with me.
“Do you want to go out on a date with me?” he asks. My heart soars in my chest, yelling, Yes!
“No,” I refuse and breathe out heavily from my nose. “See—”
“Saturday,” he presses, and I shake my head.
“I literally told you five seconds ago that I am not going to date you.”
“Yeah, but you were fibbing.” I roll my eyes at him as he walks over to the stove, and I don’t bother answering him because I was fibbing.
I finish making the potatoes and go to the pantry to take out the air fryer. Seasoning the potatoes as he works with the chicken on the stove, I grab the beer when I start the air fryer and my work is done. I watch him with the chicken. “It smells good,” my dumb mouth says before I can stop it.
“Wait until you taste it.” He looks over his shoulder at me, a smirk on his face. I look over to the side until I can feel him look back at the pan. I turn back and watch his ass, and I can see myself gripping it in my hand and digging my nails into it. “What are you thinking about right now?” His words break into my thoughts, and I shake my head. “Whatever it is, your cheeks got pink.”
“I was thinking about how I could make you cook for me and kick you out before we eat so I get it all to myself.” He laughs. “Just going through different scenarios in my head.” I bring the bottle to my mouth so he doesn’t see I did, in fact, stop fucking breathing as soon as I said the lie.
I move around the kitchen, setting up two place settings at the island while he cooks lemon chicken. We sit side by side as I cut into the chicken with a lemon butter sauce. The minute it touches my tongue, I reach out and grab his forearm and moan. The tart from the lemon with the richness of the butter is amazing. “This is really good.” I smirk over at him as I check the chicken.