Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“You hiked Devil’s Hill by yourself?” Griffin barks.
Surprised that’s what he got out of my sweet love story for the day, I scoff. “Yeah, and I lived to tell the tale, as evidenced by my being here.” I dramatically wave a hand at myself as if to remind him of my presence, alive and well. “I also got myself dressed, made my own breakfast, and drove my car to the trailhead and back, because I’m a full-grown adult who can take care of herself,” I add snidely.
“Devil’s Hill is a beginner trail, right?” Dominic asks, seeming confused about Griffin’s concern over my hike.
“Yeah, easy-peasy lemon squeezy, so don’t worry-purry over it. I only slipped off a rock once, but it was no biggie. I’m fine,” I confess, laughing at my own misfortune. What else am I gonna do? It happens too often to be embarrassed by it, and despite my ass being a bit sore earlier, after a hot shower, it’s fine.
“You fell?” Dom asks, looking me up and down like I’ve somehow hidden a broken leg or arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Dad. Again, I’m fine,” I drawl in annoyance. “Did you hear the part about the ring? Another happy couple!” I’m trying to get the focus back on the good stuff, so I add, “They want me to design their wedding bands too.” I clap quietly in delight, both for the opportunity and the guaranteed paycheck.
Being a small-business owner isn’t easy, but I stay busy with custom commissions and fill any downtime with redesigns of heirloom pieces I find, which tend to sell quickly on my website. I’m doing well—great, to be honest—but that doesn’t mean I don’t stress over every order and want to pack every blank date on my calendar. I’ve still got the hustle mentality that helped me get PLDesigns off the ground, and that mindset is what will help me reach the next level of success for my little baby of a business.
“Congratulations,” Griffin says, sounding only slightly less pissed off. “But next time you’re gonna traipse up Devil’s Hill, text me and I’ll go with you to save you from yourself.” He blinks like he’s only now realizing that he’s volunteered to spend time with me, and then adds, “Or Dom. Just don’t go out into the wilderness alone like that.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s hardly wild, and I wasn’t alone. There were at least a dozen other people up there enjoying the beautiful weather. Even a nice guy who helped me up when I fell and walked back down the hill with me.” I purposefully don’t mention that he was white-haired and old enough to be my grandfather, and that we walked down with his wife, who took my business card with a promise to call about me redoing some of her jewelry pieces for their children and grandchildren.
“What guy?”
“What’s his name?”
I’m not sure who asked what because Dom and Griffin both snarl their questions at the same time.
“Nobody to worry about,” I say airily. “I don’t know if I’ll even see him again.” It’s the truth; even if his wife calls about her jewelry, it’ll probably be me and her working on the designs. But I intentionally make it sound more scandalous because Dominic’s and Griffin’s reactions are hilariously over the top.
I mean, do they think I don’t date? That I don’t meet guys at the coffee shop or the grocery store or at games? I don’t—or at least, not very often—but there’s no reason to rub my nose in my lack of a dating life. Because I’m fine on my own, thank you very much.
“If you do, tell me first,” my brother orders.
I laugh. “No way. You’d do some FBI-level background check on him, show up ten minutes before our date, and then scare the shit out of him so badly that he cancels on the spot.”
I level him with a look, daring him to disagree, because we both know it’s not an educated guess. It’s exactly what happened when I naively and excitedly told Dominic about Jacob, a guy I did, in fact, meet at the coffee shop down the street, thinking he’d be thrilled for me too. Instead, he invaded my apartment, greeted Jacob at the door, and then literally asked about his intentions toward me like I was some fifteenth-century princess whose hand in marriage had been requested. I haven’t breathed a word about any other dates since then—not that there’s been many. Since my last serious boyfriend three years ago, I’ve been on maybe ten dates? That’s less than one per quarter, as Talia likes to remind me. It’s not that I’m averse to dating, I’m just busy. In that same amount of time, I’ve created around 150 pieces of jewelry, a statistic I’m proud of, unlike my dating history.