Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
She waved her hand and shouted. “One cup!”
After securing the scarecrow in the corner, I made my way into her house.
“You haven’t been by the last week,” she said.
I nodded. “I know, I’m sorry. With my house catching fire and trying to get things ready for school, it’s been sort of busy. I lost most of my school supplies in the fire.”
The older woman made a tsking sound while she filled up a pot with water to boil on the stove. She was the only person I knew who still made coffee this way.
“Have you seen those coffee machines where you put the little plastic cup in and fill the pot with tap water? About a minute later you have a perfect cup of coffee.”
She stared at me like I’d gone mad. “That’s insane. Why would you want something like that?”
“Well, it’s good coffee and super-fast. Plus, it’s perfect when you only want one cup.”
“What do your guests do?”
With a shrug, I replied, “They make a cup too.”
She rolled her eyes. “Pish posh applesauce. I ain’t got no time for that.”
I covered my mouth to hide my smile, deciding not to tell her that by the time she boiled the water we could have made and drunk two cups. Making a mental note, I decided to buy her a coffee maker for Christmas.
She took a pie from the windowsill and brought it over to the table. “This one’s been cooling.”
I chewed on my lip. I wasn’t sure how she thought putting a pie in the window when it was almost a hundred outside was cooling it. At least she didn’t have the window open.
“What flavor is this one?” I asked while I watched her slice a piece and put it on a glass plate.
“This one is blueberry lemon lavender.”
I took one bite and closed my eyes. With my mouth full, I tried to speak. “Ohmygawd.”
Mrs. Johnson took a seat. “Good?”
Nodding, I smiled. “I taste the lemon in the crumble crust. It’s so amazing.”
“Good. I think that one has a chance at winning this year.”
Moaning in pure delight, I took another bite. “So. Good. You’ll win for sure.”
“Anything need to be added?”
I shook my head. “No! Don’t change a thing. It’s heaven in a slice of pie. Almost orgas…mmm…umm.”
She lifted a brow. “I was hoping Mitchell Parker would be helping out in that area.”
I inhaled the pie that was in my mouth, causing a coughing fit.
“Oh come, child. You don’t think I saw the way that boy was looking at you the last time you were both here? Besides, the ladies in my crafting group like to talk. Rumor has it you’re living with Ranger Parker.”
She waggled her eyebrows.
“Water!” I said, still coughing.
Setting the water on the table, she started pouring our coffee. My eyes were watering from swallowing the pie wrong. Once I got myself under control, I spoke.
“Mrs. Johnson, I’m not sure what you heard, but Mitchell…Ranger Parker was nice enough to let me stay with him after the fire. We’re friends and that is what friends do. Plus, I have a cat and all so it was hard finding a place that would take care of—”
“Your pussy?”
I was positive my eyes popped out of my head. I dropped the fork, jumping when it clattered against the glass plate.
“Pussy cat,” she corrected with a wink.
“I’m…I’m not even sure I know what to say after that.”
Mrs. Johnson laughed as she handed me the coffee. “Darlin’, let me school you on men.”
“I know men,” I replied, a defensive tone laced in my voice.
She frowned. “Child, you have innocence drippin’ off of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were still a virgin, but I know that’s not true because Mrs. Winsten saw Mitchell Parker go into your house one late night last fall, and he didn’t emerge from the house until early the next mornin’. So, that would lead me to believe that you bumped uglies with him on at least one other occasion.”
My mouth hung open. “What is it with you southern women and the ‘bumping uglies’ thing?” I asked when I finally found my voice.
“Do you think a man’s dick is pretty?” she asked.
“Um, I’ve never been asked that before.”
She shook her head. “Well, I don’t. Don’t know any woman who says a man’s dick is pretty. Oh, in those fancy romance books they say they are.” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I ain’t ever looked at my husband’s dick in all the years we were married and thought to myself, ‘now there is a beautiful long, thick shaft glistening with a bead of his cum that I can’t wait to lick off.’”
My body shuddered at the mental image.
She took a sip of her coffee, then she set it down and shook her head. “Instead, I thought, Jesus Christ, the man’s got himself another hard-on. A-gain. And it’s leakin’ all over my nice new clean sheets.”