Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
That pretty smile of hers reaches her eyes, and when she looks down, a spray of her lashes kisses the tops of her cheeks. “I should change my clothes.”
I look at the dress that’s dried and stretched out more than it was, and ask, “Should I wait here for you?”
She nods with a growing grin. “Sounds like a good option since you’re not coming upstairs with me.” She winks. She winks at me, and my whole chest tightens as I grin like a fucking fool. “Or you could spend time with Dolly and make cookies.”
“It’s not a bad option.”
“Why do I get the distinct impression you’re up to no good, Mr. Sutton?”
“I prefer it when you call me Daniel.” Moving closer, I rest my hand over hers and lower my voice. “It feels less like we’re strangers.”
She leans in, and whispers, “We practically are strangers, though, so acting like we’re not doesn’t change the facts.”
“We can change—”
“I didn’t know we had company.”
My eyes dash to the girl at the top of the stairs as I move away from Summer. Summer’s gaze whips over her shoulder as she tucks strands of hair behind her ear. She’s breathless before she even speaks, and when she does, she asks, “Spring? Um . . .” Returning her attention to me, she says, “This is the summer tenant next door.”
The girl’s hair is a shade or two darker than Summer’s, and her eyes are just as blue as she studies us like we just got busted. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Apparently, that smirk runs in the family. Thumbing over her shoulder, she adds, “I can go back upst—”
“No, you didn’t interrupt.” Summer peeks at me before angling toward who I assume is a sister who’s starting down the stairs again. “This is Daniel Sutton.”
Embracing Summer’s words, she bops down the stairs with an energy I haven’t felt in years, only stopping when she reaches the same step her sister is already occupying. Holding her hand out, she says, “Spring Season.”
I shoot a look straight at Summer and then back before shaking her hand. “Spring?” Releasing her, I look at Summer, and ask, “As in the four seasons?”
“The Season Sisters,” Spring says, bobbling her head. “That’s what we’re known as. It’s annoying but kind of grows on you.”
“It’s not annoying,” Summer says, and then looks at me. “Our mom gave us those names.”
“Unique.” I don’t know what else to say. Summer Season was different, to put it kindly. But all four. “So there’s also—”
“Fall and Winter.” Spring steps to the landing beside me. “Well, technically it’s Autumn but that just doesn’t work as well. I read you have a son?”
If looks could kill, Spring would be dead and Summer convicted of the murder. “That’s proprietary information, dear sister.”
“You left the file on your bed.”
“In my locked room.”
She laughs. “I didn’t notice. Anywho, I’m sure he doesn’t mind talking about his son, big sis.” Turning her attention back to me, Spring adds, “Right, Daniel or do you go by Danny?”
“Daniel, never Danny, and yeah, I have an eight-year-old named Roman. He’s in with Dolly making cookies.”
Moving around us, she starts in their direction. “Great. I’ll see if I can help and leave you two to enjoy some time alone—”
“We don’t need alone time,” Summer says in a panic. The door is already swinging closed behind her when she turns to me. “We don’t need alone time.”
“Speak for yourself.” I grin. “So, the four seasons, huh?” I rock back on my heels, tucking my hands into my pockets. “I feel dumb.”
“I’m sure it will pass. It always does for me.”
Besides chuckling, I say, “When we met, you mentioned your names being different. You even mentioned Dolly, but this isn’t what I expected.”
“No one ever does. You can imagine how fun it is for us to meet new people,” she deadpans as she takes a seat on the stairs. “Spoiler, it isn’t. It’s always a topic of conversation.”
“I can imagine.”
“We get it,” she drolls like she’s bored. “Our names are different. Spring even hated hers for a few of her teen years and made us call her Ava. She thought Spring was too grounding, too earthy and hippie, and Ava was glamorous.”
Coming to sit next to her, I lean against the opposite baluster. “She seems to have come back around.”
“I’d say in the past two years. As the youngest, I think she struggled more to find her own identity. We’re all so similar. Makes sense because we’re close, but it was good for her to spread her wings instead of settling on being part of a group. She came around when she was ready.” She scrunches her nose. “I’m sure none of this makes sense—”
“It does. But what about you?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” It would have been easy to throw something out, to deflect, but she doesn’t take that route. She goes with honesty. “As the oldest, I had three girls to raise.”