Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Ugh …” I sigh, dropping my face in my hands when I’m tucked out of sight. Is it September yet?
After seven glass cups are filled with lemon sorbet, I carry them on a tray to the dining room. My mom’s laughter has hit the second glass of wine volume. It might be time to cut her off, but Janelle is laughing just as much. Of course my mom would get along with his mom.
“Traitor,” Hunter mumbles when I set the sorbet in front of him, but he can’t keep a straight face because he’s too much of a flirt.
Vera gives me a look that says I should ignore him.
“Were you renting out your guesthouse before Alice started working for you?” my mom asks.
“No. We have no desire to deal with that kind of rental property,” Vera replies.
“Murphy could probably give you some tips,” Janelle says.
“Oh, yes. He owned a house not too far from here,” Mom adds.
“How does Krista know about your rental property?” Blair asks with a smile through gritted teeth.
My mom wrinkles her nose.
Murphy clears his throat, pressing his napkin to his lips for a beat. “I’m not sure how it came up, but it did.”
Shit.
“Mom, isn’t it time for you to take your walk around the lake?” I stand, eyeing my mom with a tight grin. “You know how important a ten-minute walk after each meal is to keep your glucose in check.”
“Oh, are you diabetic?” Vera asks.
“No.” Mom plasters on a fake grin and stands because she knows I’m not happy with her. “And that’s probably because I take a ten-minute walk after every meal.”
“Good for you. I wouldn’t be able to drink that much wine and walk around the lake without falling in. Alice, perhaps you should walk with your mom,” Vera suggests.
“She’s good.” I hold on to her arm. “I’ll see her out then clear the table and clean up the kitchen.”
“It was nice meeting you, Janelle,” Mom says.
“You too.” Janelle smiles like she just made a new best friend.
Blair stands too, jaw fixed while she tosses her napkin aside. “You know what? I think I need a drive. Dad, let’s take one of your convertibles for a drive.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Vera says. “But no smoking, dear.”
“Then it won’t be that much fun,” Hunter deadpans.
“I guess we’re going for a ride.” Murphy finishes his last bite of sorbet.
“No, babe. I think you should walk your mom out then hang out in the bedroom and do your work or whatever else you do, like own rental property and turn wood, and tell everyone like it’s no big deal, except me.” Blair narrows her eyes.
They have a stare off, but he waves the white flag first. “I’ll stay here.”
I pull my mom toward the back door. “Good job, Mom.”
“What? I didn’t say you stayed at his place.”
“Shh.” I open the back door. “Go to bed.”
“I thought I was going for a walk.”
“You are. Walk straight to the guesthouse and go to bed. I have work to do, and Vera is right. You’ve had too much to drink to walk around the lake. Nighty night. Love you and your big mouth.”
She sticks her tongue out at me. Yep, she’s tipsy.
I smirk and close the door. When I return to the kitchen, Murphy’s scraping the leftover food from the dinner plates into the garbage.
“You’re grounded. Go. I’ve got this.”
“Everyone left. I’m back in the doghouse. Might as well make myself useful.”
Everyone left.
We’re alone.
“I’m sorry my mom said that. In her defense, she had too much to drink, and it’s a fair assumption that your fiancée would know you owned rental property less than a mile from here.”
He keeps his head down while cleaning the last plate. “It’s not her fault. I take full responsibility. And Blair knows I owned a rental, but she just recently found out. That’s on me. I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell her. But I’m an adult and fully capable of weighing risks.”
Me. I’m a risk. What we did earlier was a risk.
I don the pink gloves from under the sink and run dish water. “Well, you should not have taken the risk that you took earlier with me.”
“You’re right.” He sets the plate on the neat pile next to the sink.
I didn’t expect him to agree so wholeheartedly. It steals my breath for a few seconds, a little gut punch.
At a loss for words, I focus on scrubbing the dishes and setting them in the strainer as fast as Murphy can dry them. I’m obviously hurt by his admission, yet he makes no effort to say it differently or apologize, which only makes me angrier. And I don’t even know why I’m so mad. He’s not my fiancé. I willingly unbuttoned my dress. I wanted it to happen.
A good man would feel regret. Right? No. A good man wouldn’t do it in the first place. But that feels equally awful because Murphy is a good man. That’s why we fell in love in less than two weeks. That’s why eight years later, these feelings are still alive, sprouting, taking root, and searching for sunlight to grow again.