Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Good. Let’s get some roasted corn.” She pointed to a little booth shaped like a corn cob. “Extra butter, unless those abs don’t do butter.”
I laughed and pulled her closer. “I’ll just work out a few extra minutes to burn it off.” I almost asked if she wanted to help me burn it off but thankfully held myself back. “Garlic pepper butter,” I requested, ignoring the way Sela’s gaze swung to me.
“Make that two,” she said. “Please.”
Next, we moved on, and she bought corn jelly and pumpkin syrup, chatting with each vendor and asking questions about their crafts, which she listened to carefully. “Corn jelly? Sounds weird.”
She laughed. “Wait until you taste it,” she said without thinking, and I didn’t correct her.
“I do love jelly on toast,” I added just to tease her.
Sela stumbled but recovered quickly, pointing to a booth filled with wreaths. “These are incredible, Rhona.” She picked up a wreath in fall colors that didn’t look ridiculous, not even with the knitted turkey sitting cross-legged over the cornucopia. “I have to have one.”
“I have the perfect one for you,” the woman said as she produced a wreath with what could only be described as a Thanksgiving crown on it. “For your birthday.”
Sela blinked, suddenly emotional. “Thank you, Rhona. This is perfect.” She pulled out her card and tapped it to the reader attached to the woman’s smartphone. “Thank you. Oh, wait!” She turned to me. “We have to get you one.”
I blinked in shock. The last time a woman offered to buy me anything was when my grandmother offered to buy me an apartment in her building in New York.
“Come on. They’re gorgeous, and it’s for a good cause.” She turned back to the selections, mistaking my silence for hesitation. “That one is masculine and subtle.”
“Aren’t you forgetting that I don’t have a door yet?”
She waved that off. “Krista will fix that soon, and in the meantime, you can hang it on your door at the B&B.” And then she paid for a Thanksgiving wreath. For me.
“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”
She flashed a wide smile. “Consider it a welcome-to-Holiday-Grove gift.”
“I thought you were the gift,” I said accidentally but honestly. She elicited a truth from me that I hadn’t given a woman since my ex-wife, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
“Charmer,” she said as we finished winding our way through the festival, drawing curious looks from plenty of people.
“You don’t like that I’m charming?”
She shrugged and then shook her head as we left the fair. “I like it too much,” she admitted. “But I also don’t trust it.” She sighed and then stopped to face me. “I trust that it’s genuine from you, but instinctively, I don’t trust it.”
“Let me walk you home, and you can explain that mud sandwich.”
She laughed. “Mud sandwich?”
“Something my grandma would say when something was unclear.” I relieved her of her bags and bumped her shoulder. “Explain.”
Sela nodded, giving herself a long minute before she spoke. “My ex, Adam.”
“The asshole from the bar?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He left for bigger and better things and shamed me for not wanting to go with him.”
I snorted. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“You don’t know that,” she shot back easily.
“I do. You’re not just a stunner, Sela. You’re sweet and kind, and you do a lot here in town.” My gaze settled on her lips, full and pink and begging me to take a taste. “He’s back because he knows he fucked up.”
“I was sad when we broke up, but not because I missed him. I just realized that he left to find his path in life, and I don’t have that.”
I remembered her words from the fountain. “You have time.”
“I’m almost thirty,” she shot back. “Anyway, that’s the story, and thank you again for your help with him.”
“Don’t thank me for being a decent human being. That’s what you deserve, Sela.” She smiled tightly and nodded. “Is he why you’re gun-shy about dating?”
She nodded. “But he’s not special in that regard, just one in a long line of bad romantic decisions. And none of them have had your appeal.”
I knew she hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but still, my chest puffed out. “Careful there. My ego can’t handle it.”
“I’m sure your ego is as solid as the rest of you.”
She had no idea, but she would. Soon.
“This is me,” she pointed to a small ranch home that sat between a cottage and a bungalow. “I love this neighborhood. It’s like everyone just did what they wanted, and so it’s a hodgepodge of styles.”
“It’s definitely eclectic.”
She laughed, and the sound was pretty and lyrical. “Exactly.”
“Want me to help you hang the wreath?” The truth was, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her just yet.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll make mulled wine to warm your bones.” Her skin was flushed, and her pupils dilated because she wanted me to stay too.