Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Most vintages are. How’d you get it home?” There’s no reason to lie. It’s not a secret like my relationship.
“Fletcher and Beau. I was at the pizza place with Madelyn when Fletcher walked in and heard Mads offer Asher’s truck. He suggested his truck at home would work, so Fletch picked it up and Beau helped.” I shrug my shoulders, trying to come off nonchalantly.
“Your dad would have helped. I know you’ve done it on your own for years now, but we’re here, too.” Mom is right. I’m not one to ask for help. It’s a problem of mine.
“I’m not sure it would have fit in Dad’s patrol vehicle. It barely fit in Fletch’s truck. I guess something came up, both the Wild brothers showed up, made it look like a cake walk, and left. Though I’m probably going to need to bake more cookies. He mentioned they were all gone, and now that he helped me yet again, it’ll be time to bake another batch, plus whatever Beau’s favorite are. You don’t happen to know his, do you?”
“Take a breath, Delilah. You’re probably right on the desk. Plus, your father had a meeting and wouldn’t have been able to help. I have no idea what Beau likes, but I’m sure Fletcher will share his chocolate chip cookies.” Fletch barely shared the cookies I baked for him with me. I highly doubt he’ll share with Beau. He does not like to share, so I guess I’ll have to figure something else out.
“True, that’s settled. A triple batch of cookies it is. You want to sit in the living room? My office still has a long way to go.” I grab the bags off the desk and wait for her to head toward the open doorway. My apartment has a living room, kitchen, and then what I’m using as an office. They advertised it as a game room. There’s no closet, and it can’t be classified as a bedroom without it. That’s okay because the only person who would need to stay would be Madelyn. Asher would never allow her to spend the night now that they’re rock solid. Fletcher is in bed with me or vice versa, and the double glass doors add a brightness to the office I never knew I’d appreciate.
“Sure, honey.” I’m hoping I’ve done a good enough job to keep things under wraps. “I will say this, you’re positively glowing.”
“What do you mean, glowing?” I feel my cheeks and neck, wondering if I’m blushing. If that’s the case, I’m screwed.
“You know, the glow women have when they’re pregnant or in love.” My stomach sinks to my feet.
“I’m not pregnant, and I’m definitely not in love.” I cross my fingers. Lying to my mom is a new territory for me.
“Maybe it’s being home that’s doing it to you. The fresh air, unlike the polluted air in the city.” Or it could be the multiple orgasms I’m receiving every night.
“Could be. Coffee? I’m afraid lunch will have to be sandwiches, chips, and fruit.” My fridge has the bare essentials. I still need to hit the grocery store for my weekly meal prep and planning. Maybe when Mom heads out, I’ll get some shopping done and figure out dinner at Fletch’s.
“Yes on the coffee, no for lunch.” She shakes her head yet smiles softly. “I’m meeting your father at Peach Pie. Care to join us?”
“I probably would, but I ate there yesterday. I think between Mads and me, we devoured two appetizers, most of our pizzas, and I barely touched my salad. People would probably talk if I ate there two days in a row with how I chowed down.”
“Must be nice to have your dad’s metabolism. You, my sweet daughter, got all the good genes.” She’s right. I do gain weight like others, though it’s only when I’m sedentary. Working out daily helps combat that. Dad, on the other hand, has a penchant for beer and sports a slight paunch because of the hops he enjoys. As for me, my job requires a lot of sitting, which means food will go to my hips and ass if I’m not careful.
“You’re perfect the way you are. Come on, let’s have that coffee before Dad steals my mother away from me.” I drop the bags on the kitchen counter, then go through the motions of getting Mom a mug down from my cabinet.
“Delilah Ann Taylor, get out of the way.” I tried to close the door as quickly as possible. When I moved in, everything was shoved in a haphazard manner. I’ve yet to get around to organizing, and my mother can’t handle it.
“Fine, I suppose,” I tease because I’d love nothing more than for her to help me get my kitchen in better shape than it currently is.
“I’m calling your father. He can bring lunch over for all of us. This is going to take a while.” Mom pulls her sleeves up and starts on cleaning up what she deems a travesty. Meanwhile, I head back to my office to call my dad. Seems I’m going to have pizza two days in a row. You won’t hear me complaining.