Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Tell her to keep her mitts off my place, I warned Rais. I got back a picture of them framed in the archway leading to my kitchen. Who knew she’d be just as annoying as him?
In the middle of everything—my friend texting, kids lounging, a cat making biscuits on my chest—I’d turned to Luke and mentioned the plan for Friday night and all that was involved. His hand in my hair, I thought that had been acknowledgment, but now I was thinking he’d been trying to shut me up.
“I asked you, and you said you heard every word,” I reminded him now, trying to make a point.
“I may have overstated my level of wakefulness.”
I scoffed.
“Please explain to me what we’re doing.”
“Okay, so Tatum is having four friends spend the night,” I said, listing kids. “Darwin has Teddy sleeping over because his parents are going to see a ballet or an opera…not sure. I wasn’t really listening to that part, and—”
“We’re babysitting?”
“Sleep. Overs,” I corrected him. “Griff doesn’t need babysitting, and neither do his friends Benny and Sean. All they need is food.”
“Why would Benny and Sean want to stay here? Griff goes to bed at ten thirty on the weekends too.”
“Because for one, he’s still grounded and can’t go to their houses, and secondly, they’re waking up at five in the morning anyway to go on a ride with their geology teacher to look at rock formations. Lunches need to be packed, and we need to feed them all at five thirty.”
“Why are we feeding Sean and Benny?”
“Because they’ll be here in the morning—are you awake?”
He groaned loudly.
“By the way, I do appreciate you siding with me on the grounding.”
“He’s underage and was drinking at a party,” he responded with a scoff. “He got off easy. You were nice, but of course I would back you up. We’re a team.”
We were not a team, but that was a conversation for another time.
“Anyway, lots of food to procure and prepare.”
“We should trade in the Jeep for an SUV. It’s time, don’t you think?”
“I think Griff needs something he can drive, something safe, and then he can drop the kids off in the morning before he goes to school, and you can go right to work.”
He squinted at me. “Griff’s vehicle is a separate issue. We need a family car. I’m thinking a Toyota. We can go look after Thanksgiving. They always have deals then.”
I wasn’t going to be there after Thanksgiving, but reminding myself of that made my stomach hurt. “Can you focus, please?”
“Whatever you say.”
“So, is any of this planning for tonight coming back?”
“Not at all,” he replied, touching my jacket, the tips of his fingers slipping over the zipper teeth before he took hold. “But it doesn’t matter. One night of our house being a zoo is fine with me.”
Our house. I really needed to have a conversation with him about his use of possessive pronouns.
“That’s good,” I murmured. “Okay, so I gotta go, but I’ll see you—”
“Where are you going?”
I didn’t want to say and so hesitated.
“Tell me,” he insisted, and I noted he’d slid a fraction closer. “You got a hot date, Miller?”
“At”—I checked my ancient Rolex that Jared had given me a hundred years ago—“a quarter to noon? My hot dates are for lunch? How old do you think I am?” I barked at him.
The idea that I was old and he was young—even though there were only nine years between us—bothered me. And that shouldn’t have been a problem, it shouldn’t have even crossed my mind, but it did. Yet another reason for me to be replaced in the Duchesne home. I knew what was best, in my head, but my heart was saying something else altogether.
“Not old, and I’m kidding,” he said, tugging on my jacket. “Let’s get lunch. I’m hungry.”
“I can’t. I have to go talk to someone.”
All that blue-green-ocean wonder of his gaze was focused on me. “Who? Tell me now.”
“Listen,” I said, taking hold of his arms and shifting him sideways, off balance, manhandling him out of my way. “I have to do things to keep you all safe, so when I say I gotta go speak to someone, you let me go.”
He moved faster than I thought he could, turning me around and pinning me face-first against the wall, his chest pressed to my back, his lips near my ear. “How about instead of secrets, which, you’ll understand, make me a bit rabid, you simply say what you’re doing.”
I was going to answer, but at that moment, he bumped his head on my shoulder, inhaled deeply, and then stepped back. When I rounded on him, he was still standing close. He had given me space, but not much. Not enough that I didn’t touch him when I moved.
“I shouldn’t have manhandled you,” I apologized. “That was—”