Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
He chuckles. “Oh, man. I should’ve seen this coming years ago.” He reaches over and flicks my ponytail. “As soon as he teased you about the bow in your hair, I should’ve known.”
I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “The highlight of my kindergarten days.”
“Come on, let’s scrounge up some dinner before it gets any later.” Remy opens the door, and I follow him into the hallway.
We bump into Lynette coming out of the kitchen with a basket of chicken wings in her hands. The spicy hot sauce tickles my nose, and my mouth waters.
“Molly! It’s been too long, honey.” She holds the basket up and glances at my brother.
“Good to see you again.”
Lynette hasn’t changed a bit. Same short, black curly hair, tight jeans, tucked T-shirt, and bright smile. She reminds me of my grandparents—in a good way.
“Where you two sitting?” she asks.
Remy nods toward the bar. “The usual corner.”
“Well, I got these ready when I saw your truck pull in.” She lifts her shoulder and gestures with the basket of wings like the seasoned waitress she is. “Go on.”
“I got it.” Remy takes the basket from her. “Thanks.”
I trail behind Remy like a dog watching her owner shaking a bag of kibble. Every time he stops to say hello to one of the guys perched on a stool at the long, wooden bar, my stomach growls in annoyance.
At the table, I shove myself into the far side of the booth. Remy sets the basket in the middle of the table, and I snatch a wing, biting into it with unladylike ferocity.
Instant regret. The sauce is hot-hot, not the medium I’d normally order. No drinks on the table yet. I cough and sputter then grab one of the celery sticks, scoop a big glob of blue cheese onto the end, and shove it in my mouth.
Remy chuckles. “Easy, kiddo.”
I munch the celery quickly and mumble, “I’m so happy you still serve blue cheese instead of that nasty ranch everyone else is serving with wings lately.”
He laughs even harder and shakes his head. “I’ll be right back.”
I twirl a carrot stick through the dressing and crunch on it while I wait for Remy to return with a pitcher of root beer and two glasses.
“Thank you.” I pour the soda and take a deep gulp.
“Leave room for pizza,” Remy warns, biting into his own chicken wing.
“You’re the best.”
We finish the wings and start working on the pizza Lynette dropped off. Every so often, Remy jumps up to take care of something behind the bar. Once I’m not so ravenous, I sit back and allow my gaze to wander around the small tavern. Remy wasn’t kidding. Business is slow. It’s the middle of the week, though. Maybe things are busier on the weekends?
No matter what Remy says, I need to help him out more. Another reason I should get my license. I could drive here after work, and he wouldn’t be able to tell me to leave.
The last patron at the bar heads out and Remy returns to our table.
The door jingles and closes with a whump. I flick my gaze toward the entryway and spot Griff about the same time Remy notices him.
“Aw, look at that,” Remy drawls. “It’s our very own Prince Charming.”
I assume he’s using my earlier frog-kissing comparison to tease me. Under the table, I tap his shin with the toe of my sneaker. “Shut up.”
Remy slides out of his seat and stands but Griff’s eyes are focused on me. I smile and wave, even though he’s less than ten feet away.
“Good God,” Remy groans. “You two.”
“Hey, Muffin,” Griff says.
“No hello for me, bro?” Remy holds out his arms.
“Hello,” Griff says dutifully, stopping to give him a quick embrace.
Griff slides into the booth next to me. “Hey, baby,” he says against my ear, planting a quick, sweet kiss on my cheek. The scent of the cool, night air folds around me. Griff must’ve ridden his bike here.
“Hey,” I murmur, sliding my hand against his leg under the table. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He cocks his head toward Remy. “Bonehead said you’d need a ride home.”
“Ah.” I flick my gaze to Remy, who shrugs. “I can stay and help out,” I offer, even though I’d love to leave with Griff right this second.
“What’d I say about that?” Remy scolds.
“Yeah, but I’m already here,” I protest.
“You already worked a shift at your job, and you need to be up early for school. I don’t.”
“Can I at least eat, and then you two can decide who’s going where?” Griff reaches for a slice of pizza and a napkin.
“Bro, I’ll get you something fresh.” Remy jerks his thumb over his shoulder.
Griff mumbles a negative sound and bites into the slice. “I prefer it semi-cold.”
Lynette hurries over, sets another pitcher of soda on the table for us, and stops to greet Griff.