Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Maybe we could turn the basement into our love nest,” she suggested, waggling her eyebrows at me.
“I dare you to mention any of this to your father.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, okay. I’ll have to mull this over.”
“Are you going to tell the chief deputy about Jake?”
“Yes, I just wanted to tell you first.”
“So that I can talk him out of dismembering your boyfriend?”
She chuckled. “He loves Jake. So do you.”
“We do, yes,” I agreed. “That won’t keep your father from murdering him if he causes you even a moment of heartbreak.”
“It would be the other way around, don’t you think?”
“You think you’re going to break Jake’s heart?”
“I might,” she confessed. “I might not. I hope not. I hope that if we ever part ways, it’ll be because it’s what we both want.”
I nodded.
“But that is not now,” she made clear. “I’m crazy about him.”
“I know,” I assured her. “And the feeling, in case you missed it, is absolutely mutual.”
She got a bit misty. “I just worry sometimes, because Jake is loyal like a golden retriever and I sometimes change my shoes three times before I leave the house.”
“Shoe changing and love changing is not the same thing, I promise.”
“I just never wanna be fickle, and I am with other things.”
“But you know that, and I think that’s half the battle.”
She took a breath, wiped quickly at her eyes, and gave me a smile. “Thank you.”
“Whatever happens, do what’s best for you. If you listen to your heart, it won’t lead you astray. Mine never has.” And then I added, “Much.”
She giggled and stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my neck to hug me tight. “I love you, you know.”
“And I love you back, B.”
Hannah-Banana when she was young that was eventually shortened to simply B. Nice that at least some things would stay the same.
Later, Sam was at the front door handing out candy, dressed, as he’d been all night, as Captain Mal. The kids thought he was a pirate, and the parents asked how the Browncoats were doing, and he replied, without missing a beat, that things didn’t look good.
Walking outside onto the porch, I tapped my husband on the shoulder and told him I was heading out to Aaron’s party.
“How long will you be?” he asked, focused on his task, not turning to me. He always liked to make sure the kids got two of each, a full bag of whatever and a chocolate bar. We always gave out the full-size ones because Sam had always wanted those when he was little.
“Not long. I just promised Aaron and Duncan I’d show up, and I’m dying to see what Aja’s wearing because she said I had to show up to see.”
“Dane’s not going?”
“No. He hates parties almost as much as you do,” I replied, hugging him from behind. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”
Leaving him, I opened the door to go back into the house.
“Wait,” he ordered sharply.
Turning, I looked at him over my shoulder.
“What’re you wearing?”
I had on a pair of black leather pants tucked into thigh-high black leather boots, a black silk dress shirt, and a gold-and-black corset that, I will admit, with how cinched my waist was, made my ass look pretty good. Hannah had done my makeup and paid particular attention to my eyes. The fake lashes had taken a minute to get used to, but they weren’t bothering me anymore.
“I’m a courtesan so––”
“You’re a what?” he asked as a pack of kids yelled trick or treat at him.
“It’s a Belle Époque–themed party,” I explained, walking back over to take the giant bowl from him and hand out the candy myself. “Ohmygod, you guys look so good,” I told all the small people before waving to their parents. “They all said thank you,” I yelled over, because when I used to walk around with my two, that was the most important question I had.
Everyone waved back, one woman called out that I looked amazing, and then it was quiet as I turned to my husband, who was staring at me.
“You look like you have a question.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, squinting at him.
“No. That’s not what I was going to—I didn’t mean no, you can’t go. I meant…what the hell is bell epoxy, or whatever you just said?”
“La Belle Époque,” Hannah corrected him, walking out onto the porch with Jake, taking the bowl from me and passing it to him as another horde of kids came up the walk, “is a term used to refer to a period of time between about 1871 to 1914, give or take.”
Sam was staring at his daughter like she was speaking French to him.
“Remember when you lost the bet with me about how big groupers get and I made you watch Gigi with me?”
“What?”
“The musical,” she reminded him.
“What?” He sounded like he was in pain.