Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” I say, and he leans back without letting me go and meets my gaze as I tip my head back. “I like your house.”
“Thanks.” He smiles softly, lifting his hand and using the tips of his fingers to swipe them across my forehead, his eyes watching them, then dropping to my lips. My stomach dances in anticipation when he tips his head down, and my toes curl as he brushes his lips across mine. The kiss is soft, barely a whisper, but it’s still the second sweetest kiss I’ve ever received, the first being the last time he kissed me. I want to lean up on my tiptoes for more, but Sam starts to yell from his car seat, letting the world know he’s not happy about being left out.
“I’d better get him.” I laugh.
“I got him.” He lets me go, then opens the back door, and I know the moment Sam sees Blake, because his cries of frustration turn into giggles of happiness. I smile, then look to my right and notice the little boy with red hair watching, with Tutu sitting at his side.
“Edmond?” I ask, and his head jerks back ever so slightly in surprise. “I met your grandma on the way here,” I explain, and he relaxes. “I’m Everly.”
“Are you Blake’s girlfriend?”
I stare into his questioning eyes and try to figure out how to respond. I mean, I was just kissing Blake, and he is a kid, so I wouldn’t feel right saying no, but I don’t even know where Blake and I stand. So saying yes, especially with Blake close enough to hear me say the wrong thing, could be really awkward.
“Umm . . .”
“Yes, Ed, she’s my girlfriend,” Blake says easily as he emerges from the car with Sam, who looks so happy to be back with his friend.
“Cool.” Edmond grins, then mutters, “I kinda guessed that when you kissed her.”
“Right.” Blake laughs, apparently not noticing me slightly freaking out about the fact that he just said we are together. Like together together. “Let’s get your bike, bud. I’m sure your grandma is ready for you to be home.” He heads into the garage with Sam on his hip, and I follow behind him with Edmond.
“She doesn’t care,” Edmond says, and there’s something about the tone of his voice that hurts my heart.
“She asked me to tell you that lunch is ready,” I tell him quietly. “If she’s anything like my grandma was, that’s code for she wants to spend time with you.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs, going to his bike, which is suspended upside down on two barrels in the middle of the garage.
“Take him for a minute, babe.” Blake hands me Sam, and I kiss his cheeks to distract him as Blake helps Edmond put the chain back on his bike. When they finish, Blake takes his bike down, then flips it upright, and Edmond grabs hold of the handlebars and tosses his leg over the seat.
“Thanks,” he tells him; then his eyes come to me and Sam. “Nice meeting you.”
“You too, Edmond,” I say softly, watching him roll out of the garage and head down the driveway, picking up speed as he goes. “He seems sweet.”
“He’s a good kid.”
“Is there a story there?” I ask, turning to face him, and his expression gentles.
“His mom took off when he was a couple of months old, and his dad works on the pipelines, so he’s not around much. Tina, his grandma, is doing what she can, but—”
“But he misses his dad,” I say, cutting him off, and he nods. “Poor baby.” My chest aches. I can only imagine what he must be feeling, especially being so young.
“He’ll be okay. He has lots of people looking out for him.” He rests his hand against my lower back, then asks, “Do you need to grab anything from your car before we head inside?”
“Sam’s bag,” I tell him, and before I can make a move to go get it, he walks out of the garage and grabs the bag from the back seat. When he comes back, he takes Sam from me, then motions for me to head for the stairs.
“I figured we could eat lunch here before we head out to the farm. Are you okay with that?” he asks, reaching around me to open the door.
“Yeah.” I step inside a laundry-slash-mudroom that is, not surprisingly, super clean and organized, with all the shoes lined up perfectly on a stand near the door and cleaning supplies in baskets on the shelf. I slip off my boots when he kicks off his sneakers, then walk through the only door in the room that takes me right into a long, dark hallway.
“Head to the right.”
I do, and soon we enter the kitchen, which is open to the living room. Even with the dark paint and furniture, the large windows offer lots of light, and the tall ceilings and open floor plan make the space feel bright and spacious.