Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“I don’t know,” I chuckle. “You should ask her.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “How are you?”
I let out a burst of laughter at his harmless flirting.
“I’m good. I haven’t seen you around much.”
“I was covering a story for the historical society in Mount Horeb.” He reaches for my hair, which is caught in a low-hanging ponytail, and tugs a few strands. “But now that I have some time, I was hoping you’d reconsider and go out to dinner with me.”
Colby’s been trying for five years to get me to go out with him, and even though he is attractive and a good man, I just don’t feel a spark between us.
“You need to stop asking. My answer isn’t going to change.” I give him a smile to ease the blow of rejection. “I’m way too busy with work, and dating is the last thing I’m interested in.”
I even made Jordan go with me to my prom so I didn’t have to accept any of the invites I received. I’m one of those people who are perfectly content with not being in a romantic relationship. My life is full and happy, and it doesn’t feel like it’s missing anything.
Not accepting my rejection, Colby smirks and leans forward. Sounding too sure of himself, he says, “I’ll get you to change your mind at some point.”
Waverly sets the three large pizza boxes down in front of me, and it prompts Colby to ask, “Can I give you a ride home?”
“Nope, but thanks for the offer.” I lift the boxes and turn my attention to Waverly. “See you on Tuesday.”
“I’ll drop Lucas off at six p.m.”
“That works for me.”
I can feel Colby’s eyes resting on me as I walk out of the diner and let out a sigh. Hopefully, he’ll stop asking me on dates.
I cut through the town square, admiring the baskets of colorful flowers hanging from antique lampposts. As I head down my street, the three boxes grow heavier, and by the time I reach the cul-de-sac where my family home is, I let out a breath of relief.
I take the steps up to the porch, which is decorated with a hanging chair and potted flowers. It’s my parents’ favorite spot to sip on a glass of wine while they watch the sun set.
The front door opens, and Mom grins at me. “Let me take those.”
When she rids me of the boxes, I shake out my arms and rub over the red marks left on my skin.
“Sage called to let me know she was able to get away from the office earlier than expected. She’ll be here any minute,” Mom informs me as we head into the house.
“That’s good news.” I blow a loose strand of my hair out of my face while following Mom to the kitchen. “I offered to babysit Lucas, Waverly’s boy, on Tuesday night.”
“That’s so nice of you.”
After the walk home, I make a beeline for the fridge and grab a bottle of water. After quenching my thirst, I ask, “When did you last hear from Jordan?”
Mom thinks for a moment before replying, “He called on Monday. His construction business is keeping him busy, and Natalie and Brady are doing well. He said they’ll come through for Thanksgiving.”
Jordan met Natalie a month after he moved to Naperville, and they’ve been happily married for five years. We took a trip to visit them when Brady was born, but that was two years ago.
“Boo . . .” I scrunch my nose while putting the bottle down on the counter. “That’s still two months away.”
“Right?” Mom lets out a huff. “I’m just happy that we’ll get to see them this year.”
Moving closer to Mom, I place my arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, at least you’re stuck with me.”
A smile widens over her face. “The house would be empty without you, buttercup.” Her expression grows serious. “But I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck here.”
“I don’t feel that way at all. I love living with you and Dad.”
Mom pats my cheek. “One day you’ll meet someone who’ll make you feel differently.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I have zero desire to date.”
“You might change your mind a few years from now.”
I peek into the pizza boxes until I find the Hawaiian and quickly steal a piece of pineapple. When I pop it into my mouth, I say, “Don’t tell Sage.”
It’s always been our thing where I’ll pick off the pineapple from my pizza to give to Sage because she loves it so much. It’s something special between us.
Mom walks to the stove and begins to prepare a pot of chamomile tea.
The front door opens, and a second later we hear Sage calling out, “I’m home.”
Shrieking happily, Mom barrels out of the kitchen. I follow after her and grin when I see Mom hugging the life out of Sage.