Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“Luna,” she called, and I focused on her. “You didn’t have that time in. Knox throwing an ultimatum at you and forcing you to make a decision in the moment, not even giving you a day to think about it, time for you both to cool off so you could have a calm conversation about it, was not okay. At all. If that’s the kind of guy he is, then pardon the metaphor at this juncture, but you dodged a bullet.”
“Right,” I whispered.
It took a second, it appeared she was winding herself up for something, then she asked, “Why are you looking after him?”
“He’s my friend.”
“You’re in love with him.”
Mm-hmm.
I’d outed myself on that too.
I did my shrug thing again.
It again didn’t land.
“You’re hurting yourself doing this.”
Now it was me winding myself up for something, then I admitted, “I can’t seem to stop myself.”
She shook her head like I was beyond hope.
Okeydokey.
Sister chat over, and it didn’t go too badly.
Time to move on.
“You want my help getting them down?”
She looked at Feather, her face got soft and so pretty, it was crazy.
Then she said, “I just got them back last night. I wanna do it.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
And since I had grocery shopping to do and another visit to Knox, not to mention Jacques’s nighttime stroll, and it was after seven thirty, I needed to get on with it.
So I instituted part three of my We’re Gonna Be Functional Sisters if It Kills Me, Dammit Plan.
“Text me when you have a post office drop to do. I’ll come by after work and pick up the packages.”
She lifted her head, the soft went out of her face, it screwed up like it did when she was going to say something ugly, but I got there before she could do it.
“Shut up. You’re on my way home from work, and so is the post office, you big dork.”
I watched her struggle to accept my help.
It looked like she was losing.
Then she said, “Whatever.”
“And I can help you package them up.”
“Pushing,” she warned softly.
I grinned huge at her. “Okay, we’ll leave it there. Good chat. Love you.”
I went to Dusk, who was half-heartedly racing some cars down a tiny roller coaster type thing.
I bent and dropped a kiss on his head. “Love you,” I repeated.
He batted my face with his hand, but said, “Of you.”
I went to Dream and Feather, gave my niece a kiss, also on her head, and another, “Love you.”
I looked at Dream and said, “I’m out.”
“See you at Mom and Dad’s on Wednesday.”
Well, that was semi-nice, the semi part was her sounding like she wished she wouldn’t.
“You betcha,” I replied chirpily, grabbed my bag and vamoosed.
I hit the grocery store, and while perusing the ready meals section, I cursed Knox to perdition because he was the kind of guy who leaned toward healthy eating, but he didn’t shy away from horking down boneless wings or two of Willow’s cupcakes in one go. And I not only didn’t know him well enough to know, while recuperating, would he want to fire up the healthy bit, or the comforting bit? I also wasn’t about to text him to ask.
I got him selections of both, dragged them to my car, then drove to his place.
I nearly had a stroke when I saw no delivery bags on his front stoop.
This was why I grabbed all four grocery bags, stormed his door, and thankfully found it open.
Therefore, I stormed through.
His long body was stretched out on the couch and Monday Night Football was on the TV.
He looked amazing stretched out, watching a game, even with one arm in a sling.
I didn’t let that affect me (visibly, physically was another story).
I also didn’t hesitate.
“What did I say about bending to get the bags?”
“I’m not an invalid.”
I looked pointedly at his shoulder, then the crutch he had leaned on an armchair, then back at him.
He sat up. “I’m supposed to move around, Luna. It’s bad to get stiff. I need to use my muscles. I’m already doing PT exercises.”
He was?
So soon?
That was a surprise.
“And anyway, I was hungry,” he finished.
I refused to feel all warm inside that I’d provided sustenance for him when he was hungry.
Instead, I slammed the door just to put an exclamation point on my annoyance and trooped to his kitchen with my bags.
Though, it may have taken some of the oomph out of my door slam when I offered, “Do you want me to warm something up for you now?”
“No.”
I looked up because his voice didn’t sound like he was lounging. It sounded like he was making his way to me.
And he was.
“I think that’s enough exercise for today, honcho,” I snapped.
“Stop babying me,” he ordered.
“Good you mentioned that,” I said, unpacking food. “See, I’ve made a decision, and this is how it’s gonna go. I’m gonna drop in before work, make sure you’re good, coffee is made, food in your belly. I’m also going to drop in after work to see if all is cool.”