Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
He lifted his head to smile at me with a look so loving that it robbed me of my breath.
“Forget everything I just said. I can’t think of a single reason to wait.”
Morgan held one of my hands and Chick gripped the other as Kingston lowered his camera, looking at me with dark, solemn eyes. “Thank you, August. That was exactly what I needed.”
I’d given him his interview, and it wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d expected it to be. Morgan cried and Chick had something in his eye once or twice, but I’d managed to tell him the story of how I got the idea for the race without sobbing into an uncontrollable heap in front of the rest of the paddock.
We were at the community cookout/slumber party portion of Lemons.
Competition forgotten, people were grilling under the stars, playing music and sharing food and stories with each other like they were at a family reunion instead of a racetrack. Except for the team on the other side of the paddock, with the Jell-O shots and stripper pole, it was as wholesome as advertised. Which was sorely needed after the near-miss-tragedy that happened earlier in the afternoon.
Not the RV sex. That had been spectacular.
It was Bernie.
After Rick took the rest of my turn along with his to try and make up our lap count, he’d grudgingly handed the wheel over to my impatient friend.
She was ready for it. That first hour, she’d methodically started beating everyone’s time. She’d raced easily around every curve and turn, like she’d been born behind the wheel. She made Jiminy fly. And then he was almost literally flying, thanks to the Lego assholes.
Those guys sucked. They’d come close to her multiple times, finally nudging her around a turn and sending the car into a small fishtail before the left front end hit the wall.
Bernie was achy from the impact but miraculously unharmed. So was Jiminy, after the mechanics from several other teams joined Wade and Dalton in hammering the body back into shape, changing the tire and working their magic on the suspension.
Whatever they’d done, we were able to continue with the race, this time with Gene back behind the wheel until the checkered flag signaled the end of the day.
Rick had been livid.
The punishment the shitty team received—which would still be in effect tomorrow, because it involved locks and keys and math and a few very pissed-off Lemons honchos—had not been enough for him. Gene and Lucy did their best to calm him down and hold him back from the driver who’d gone after Bernie, but I doubted he felt any better because he’d been missing in action since it happened.
Bernie, on the other hand, had thrown herself into the excessive celebration part of the evening. That’s where Wade was—trying to talk his dancing sister out of attempting the stripper pole so he could bring her back to our section.
This was…not what I’d expected the rest of my day to look like after confessing my love and being swept off my feet by my real-life romance hero. But that was reality for you. It wasn’t a ride into the sunset. It was a roller coaster.
Maybe I liked roller coasters now.
“August?”
I stood up when Kingston’s parents ambled my way.
“You did great out there.” The handsome older man, with his white goatee, took my hand and patted it. “Your mother would be proud.”
“Thank you, Mr. Haywood.”
He nodded absently. “The boat looks good, if I say so myself. A challenge, making something that size seaworthy. Balance, you know. But I managed.”
“I made him add a fairy to the prow and a mermaid design along the sides,” Mrs. Haywood said with a compassionate smile. “I knew Sam would like that. She always loved mermaids, didn’t she?”
I couldn’t wait to see it. “Yes, she did. I’ll come get it on Monday, if that’s okay.”
Mr. Haywood smiled. “Anytime you want. You’ve got an eye for art, August. I was thinking about incorporating some of your design ideas into a new memorial piece I’m working on for another customer. Got my hands on a big, beautiful bit of teak.”
“We’ll talk about it later, dear,” Mrs. Haywood said, nodding at Morgan before guiding her husband back toward the area where Mom’s friends had gathered to drink wine and share old memories.
My sister got to her feet as they left. “If you’re okay, I’m going to go find my husband and help him celebrate his anniversary. Chick, you’re leaving the RV here overnight, right?”
When he didn’t answer, we both looked around to find him back beside the tent, deep in conversation with Kingston. Probably about the documentary.
“I’ll assume that’s a yes and it’s ours for the night.” She kissed my cheek and gave me a finger wave. “You really did do great out there today. I love you, August.”