Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
A pensive look flickers through his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. With a heavy sigh, as if dismissing that line of thought, he asks, “So, what have you been up to all morning?”
“Oh, you know … Dodging a reporter’s call, letting my mother plan our wedding.”
“What reporter?” Henry’s voice turns hard.
“Some guy named Luca from the Tribune. He was asking me questions about Wolf Cove and when our relationship started.” I falter. “And he asked about Ronan and Michael.”
His jaw clenches. “If those fuckers are selling stories—”
“Ronan’s not.” I messaged him immediately after I got off the phone with Miles, and he had no idea what I was talking about. I believe him. “And a few people knew I was there that night with Michael. It could have been one of them.” Or someone they told. It’s impossible to pinpoint. Gossip in the Wolf Cove staff quarters spreads like an army of ants after its hill has been kicked.
Henry knows this as well as I do. “Unknown number?”
“Yeah. I didn’t answer any of his questions, but I have a bad feeling.”
“Deny everything. It’s none of anyone’s fucking business. Luca what?”
“Just Luca.”
Henry scribbles down the name. “We’ll get you a new number today. Don’t give it out to anyone but close family and friends. People you know you can trust.”
“Okay. Thank you. Speaking of family …” I steel my shoulders. “We’re going to Greenbank for dinner on Saturday.”
His eyebrow arches. “Are you asking me?”
“No. I’m not.” I’ve never had the nerve to make plans for Henry without his okay, and by the hint of annoyance in his tone, he’s not too keen on it. “It’s sort of an engagement celebration.”
“Will I be setting up picnic tables and fending off frisky church ladies?”
Clearly, he’s still clinging to memories of Daddy’s homecoming party and all the hens flocking around him. “No, and to be fair, you weren’t invited. You crashed that party.”
He pushes the hem of my dress upward a few more inches. “If I recall, it was worth it.”
My cheeks flush. That’s the night Henry fucked me on a hay bale. That’s also the night Jed caught us mid-act and then ran off to Mama to tattle. “It’ll be us, Aunt May, and the Enderbeys, of course.” There’s no Saturday night dinner without them. I warned Mama that if she invited anyone else, we’d turn right around and head back to New York.
“Saturday night with Fuckface. Even better,” he grumbles.
“Jed’s not that bad.” Now that he’s given up on us getting back together.
“No, you’re right. We need to remember to thank him in our wedding speech for cheating on you.”
At least Henry is sounding more like himself and not that lost, forlorn man. “Whatever. Jed isn’t the problem, it’s Mama, and the best way to deal with her is face-to-face, with witnesses so she has to weigh her words before she says them out loud.” Mama has always been good about keeping her mask on when others are around.
“You’re really selling this to me.” Henry grins. “Should be fun.”
“It’s going to be painful. But if I don’t do this now, our wedding will be in a barn with my second cousins as bridesmaids, wearing gingham frocks, and I will be miserable by the time next spring comes. Please, Henry.”
“Relax. Of course, we’ll go. It’s your family, and it’s the right thing to do.”
“Thank you.”
He squeezes my thighs before leaning back in his seat, collecting my foot. “What are gingham frocks?”
I revel in the feel of his thumbs working over my heel. “Remember that dress Celeste Enderbey made for Daddy’s homecoming?”
“The one from the set of Little House on the Prairie that I ripped off you?”
“Exactly.”
“I hated that thing.”
“Well, now imagine it made with a picnic tablecloth.”
He cringes.
“Right? Nothing I want my bridesmaids in.”
“Not even second cousins?”
“Ugh! They are not my bridesmaids!” As awkward as having that conversation will be, seeing as Mama’s already asked them.
He switches to kneading my other foot. “Who will you ask, then?”
I hesitate. “I was thinking about Margo. Is that crazy?”
A soft smile touches Henry’s lips. “No. I think that’s a great idea.”
“So do I.” Despite Henry’s—and my—past with her, in the short time that I’ve known her, she has become a friend like no other. She dropped everything and flew up to Alaska to comfort me during the worst ordeal of my life. If that isn’t a grand gesture of true friendship, I don’t know what is.
“Who else?”
“Autumn.” We text almost every day now.
“The concierge?”
“And my roommate.” I pause, unsure if I should broach it. “And I was thinking Ronan?”
Henry’s hands stop his ministrations as he glares at me. “That’s a joke, right?”
“Maybe?” I bite my bottom lip. “Would it be that bad, though? He is one of my best friends. And he helped save your life.”