Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way—you look thirsty. How long have you been out here?”
“Not too long,” he replies. But who really knows with men? He could have been out here five minutes or an hour and give the same answer. They always want to downplay how hard they’ve been working.
“Well, you look thirsty. Would you like to take a break? Come in for some lemonade? I made some fresh just two days ago.”
His glacial-blue eyes look back at me, and I feel my nerves begin to tingle. I shouldn’t be anxious around him. This man was just weedwhacking my lawn without me even having to ask, but for some reason I still am.
Maybe it’s just a sign of how long I’ve been out of the dating scene. Or maybe it’s my mom’s voice in my head telling me that I’m not young and fertile anymore and men won’t be beating down my door much longer.
I know I shouldn’t be listening to all that, but she does kind of have a point. I’m not 22 anymore, and Jake could get any girl he wants. Why would he want to spend time with me when he’s probably got like 50 Tinder dates lined up with a bunch of 18-year-olds already?
“Lemonade?” he asks with a panty-melting smile. “That sounds like it would definitely hit the spot right now.”
I try not to let him see me breath an enormous sigh of relief.
“But I am all sweaty,” he warns.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” I laugh, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I grew up with brothers. A little sweat doesn’t bother me.”
9
Sadie
“Brothers, huh?” Jake asks from his seat at the table. He’s using a wet towel I gave him to wipe the sweat from his neck while I pour him a glass of lemonade with ice. I have to dilute the tiny bit that’s left with water for me. I made this batch two days ago and wasn’t expecting to be sharing it with anybody, but I don’t want Jake’s masculine instincts to kick in and have him do something kind and stupid like offer to share his with me or something.
“Yeah, two,” I reply. I’m lying again. I don’t know why. I’m normally a very truthful person, but right now I’m willing to say anything that will keep Jake here.
First I told him I was an accountant and now I’ve told him I grew up with two brothers. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do down the road if things continue with us.
“What was that like?” he asks. “Only child here.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard stories of growing up with siblings a thousand times before,” I reply as I take the glasses over to the table and sit down beside him. “It’s not that different from those, I’m sure.”
Jake nods and takes a sip of his lemonade. I brace myself, but thankfully, his eyes light up. “Damn, this is good!”
“You like it?” I ask, warming up inside.
“Absolutely. What’s in it? It tastes…spicy or herbal or something.” He takes a second sip and smacks his lips together with a smile.
“It’s got a tiny bit of fresh mint and fresh basil in it,” I reply. “I found the recipe online and thought I’d try it out. You really like it?”
Jake is gulping down another big swig but does his best to nod as he does so. Delight fills my belly as I watch him swallow. He sets down his glass and wipes his lips with his thick forearm.
“A lemon tart and herb lemonade?” He grins. “You’re one of those ‘good homegrown women,’ as my dad used to say, aren’t you?”
I burst out laughing and try not to make the ugly face I make when I laugh too hard. “Homegrown women? What’s that mean?”
Jake chuckles and sort of shrugs. “I guess he meant women who can cook, clean, do all the things he says women these days aren’t any good at doing. According to him, that is.”
I nod and smile to myself. “Ah, I see. Is that what you like in a woman, Jake?”
I probably shouldn’t have said that.
Jake fixes his eyes—those amazing blue eyes—on me, and I feel my heartbeat start to quicken.
“I don’t know,” he says after a moment. “Is that the kind of woman you are, Sadie?”
Did he really just ask me that?
Why is he asking me that?
Is he implying what I think he’s implying?
My hand starts to quiver as I raise my glass to my lips for a sip of diluted herb lemonade. It’s bland and pretty awful going down, to be honest. Once I’m finished, I set it aside and smile back at him. “Well, I don’t know. I guess we’d have to ask your dad, wouldn’t we?”
Jake gives me this look that sort of takes me a second to decipher, but once I do, I want to smack myself with something really heavy.