Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“You thought wrong.” I pouted, rubbing the back of my head as I looked up at him. “At least you’ve put some clothes on now.”
“I see the bang to the noggin hasn’t altered your personality any,” he remarked, pulling back. “Are you going back to sleep?”
I wished.
“No.” I let go of a long, dramatic sigh. “Bean’s kid has broken his hand or something, so I have to go in at one to cover his shift.”
“Wasn’t he in the hospital getting an x-ray on his ankle last month?”
“Bean? Or his kid?”
“His kid.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Probably. Si reckons he’s got Bean’s brains.”
“Poor bugger,” Fred muttered, walking over to the dresser. He grabbed the towel and ran it through his hair, mussing it all up.
“No, no. How many times? You don’t scrub, you squeeze.”
He met my eyes in the mirror. “That’s easy for you to say. You have long hair. How am I supposed to squeeze this?”
Good grief.
I patted the bed in front of me, and he came, obediently sitting down with his back to me. I got onto my knees and gently dried his hair with the towel, then took the hairdryer from the bottom drawer of the bedside table and plugged it in.
I dried his hair, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He grinned, and his blue eyes sparkled impishly.
“And you say I couldn’t live without you. You can barely do your hair without me,” I said when I was done drying. I took the wax from his hands and ran it through his soft hair, using just enough to make sure it stayed in place. “There. Now piss off so I can get changed.”
He got up and put everything away, then grinned at me. “Clothes are in the bottom drawer over there.” He nodded towards the chest of drawers.
I frowned, but by the time I’d gotten my words to work, he’d already left the room. I shuffled over to the drawers and opened the one he’d said was mine.
Sure as shit, I had clothes in there.
My clothes, too.
Huh. Either someone was covertly moving me into Hawthorne House, or I spent more time here than I’d thought.
I wasn’t sure which one was more terrifying.
11
* * *
DELILAH
Something was definitely going on.
Nana had been giggling on and off for the past three days, and she had a great deal of plans with her friends for a woman who was, in her words, on her ‘bloody deathbed.’
She hadn’t looked it this morning when she’d done the macarena on her way out of the house while wearing a scarlet red dress and straw sunhat, let me tell you that.
The woman was more alive than I was.
Mum said she had no idea either, although I didn’t know how honest she was being about that. As for my sister… Well, Lucy only cared if could bring her salt and vinegar crisps. She’d burst out crying when I said I didn’t have any, and that was why I’d just left her workplace after leaving three of those huge grab bags at the front desk.
Nobody could tell me I was a bad sister, thank you very much.
It was also my day off, and running around after my hormonal, pregnant sister was certainly not something I’d worked into the plan of my day.
Actually, using the word ‘plan’ was somewhat of an exaggeration. All I had on my to-do list was find out what the hell my grandmother was giggling about and why she was sneaking around. I had a little suspicion it had to do with Granny—it usually did—and by extension, Fred.
My best friend.
My darling future husband.
The three of them together was truly a terrifying thought. Especially because I didn’t have to be a genius to reach the most obvious conclusion: It was about our unplanned, upcoming marriage.
Once again, I couldn’t help but lament how the hell I’d ended up here. The only saving grace was that the alternative was that I had to marry some random guy, and God only knew what kind of terrible habits he’d have.
At least I knew all of Fred’s bad sides. I could live with him for a couple of years.
And, really, I couldn’t help but think it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I was getting an upgrade in the old living quarters, and not having to pay any bills would help my savings account out massively.
The chances of me leaving Hawthorne House unscathed were slim, but it was a risk I was willing to take.
If worst came to worst, I’d just ask Amelia to help me escape in the dead of night. Given how upset she was when she found out I was ‘marrying down’ by becoming her brother’s wife, I didn’t think it would be too much of a stretch to think she’d help.
Then again, there was every chance she’d get too used to me living there and not let me go.