Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“You know about the divorce and why—”
“Everybody does, girl. Get to the good stuff we don’t know yet,” Grandpa Joe urges. “Before I’m too old to remember it or have to go for a piss and miss something.”
I laugh lightly and get to the rest of it. “Chrissy wants the construction company.” Their jaws drop as I expected. “That’s not even the worst of it. She thinks Jed’s hiding money, so while there’s a full audit, all construction has to be stopped. No money in, no money out.”
Three, two, one . . .
“Township!” Hazel shouts with wide eyes as she realizes what the repercussions of Chrissy’s move will be. I blink twice dramatically. “Oh my God! Do they know? Does Jesse know?”
Even mad at him, I’ve felt like that’s been the hardest thing today—not calling him to give him a heads-up. And honestly, probably a fair amount of why I decided to tell Hazel what’s going on. She’s completely trustworthy, but she’s also loyal to a fault to her family. Like “take a bullet, go to jail, provide a false alibi” type of loyal. I can’t tell Jesse, but if she accidentally, completely unintentionally happens to share a rumor she heard, then he would be able to prepare a little. He deserves that.
I give Hazel a puppy-dog-eyed look, and she hears me loud and clear.
“Ten-four, little buddy. Consider it handled. Sister Hazel’s gotcha covered,” she says in a CB-worthy voice.
Grandpa Joe knocks on the table. “Is that it? That’s the big news? Jed’s being handsy with some woman, Chrissy’s being grabby with the money, and we’ll have to wait a li’l bit for some cookie-cutter houses. I was hoping for some drama. Maybe a family secret or illicit love child. Something real juicy.”
“Technically, there is a love child,” I whisper. And then I say something I never thought I’d say in a million, bajillion years. “Poor Aunt Chrissy. I can kinda understand why she’s going after Jed so hard. Just sucks for Cold Springs.”
We go quiet for a minute, letting what this will mean for the town sink in. I’m faster at that process, since I’ve been ruminating on it for a while now, so I remember something Hazel said. “What do you know about Oliver?”
“The lawyer?” she asks, damn well aware that’s who I’m talking about. Her delay is concerning, because Hazel’s known for being bluntly up front, regardless of your feelings.
I lift a brow, glaring at her harshly.
She holds my eyes for a long moment and then grins. “Yeah, the lawyer. Oliver, with the fancy-schmancy suits, tight ass, and broad shoulders. Not to mention the sexy blue eyes and hair that Charlene wants to—and I quote—‘run my hands through to mess it up a bit because he’s a caged tiger waiting for the right woman to set him free . . . rawr’—end quote.”
Avery laughs, “God help him if Charlene’s got her sights set on him.”
“I wish,” I add. “He asked me out . . . after blowing up Township. I mean, I know he’s working for his client’s best interests, but seriously?”
Grandpa Joe snorts. “I bet a badass like you told him where to fuck around and find out.” All three of us look at him in shock at his correct usage of the phrase, and he smiles widely. “See? I’m not all old geezer. I keep up with the kids’ lingo.”
“You’re approximately ten percent old geezer,” I tell him, pretty comfortable with my math. “And I . . .” I duck my head and mumble, “Told him to call me.”
“What?” Hazel shouts as she slams her palms to the table so hard, the plates bounce. “Please tell me that you did no such thing, Wren Ford.” Her eyes are full of fire and directed right into my soul like she’s going to fillet and flambé me right here at Avery’s dining table.
“Uhh . . .”
Avery jumps in to mediate a battle I didn’t know I was entering. “Let’s hear her out. I’m sure there’s a reason. Other than the caged-tiger thing.”
Confused, I clarify. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He called me to arrange it, but, uhm . . . he heard me, which was awkward as hell, and then sent an even more awkward note.”
Blissfully clueless and innocent, Avery echoes, “Heard?”
I look from her to Hazel and then finally Grandpa Joe. Thankfully, he understands more than his granddaughter. “Think I’ll visit the little cowboy’s room. Yeehaw!” He gets up from the table, but pauses beside me with his hand on my shoulder. “And a ‘ride ’em, cowgirl’ to you.”
I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I flush with embarrassment. Once he’s down the hall, I take a steadying breath.
“Oliver heard me with someone else. Coming.” I raise my brows to make sure Avery’s caught up now, and when her eyes go wide, I know she understands. Finally. “I tried to be quiet and carry on a normal conversation—or as normal as could be—but he knew. The note he sent the next morning made that clear.”