Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Fucker. “Then start wearing a damn shirt and lose the backward hat.”
“What?” he asks, his chuckle turning into a laugh. The vibrations of his laugh toy with my senses. Even when I’m frustrated with the man, he still turns me on.
So, so unfortunate.
My cheeks heat as I process that I’ve just given him an opening and he turned me down. That’s never happened before, and I’m not quite sure what to do about it.
Objectively, what he’s saying is true, and I respect him for that. He just proves over and over that he’s a great guy. But it’s still a hit to my ego. It still stings.
“Well, you’ve made your decision,” I say, trying to remember who I am. Trying to harness that energy. “I’m pretty sure that I know what I can and cannot handle, and I certainly don’t need you deciding that for me—regardless of your intentions.”
“Markie …” He groans.
“No. It’s fine. Enjoy the rest of your night.” I put my hand on the handle as another round of pounding and shouting comes from the other side of the door. “But you should’ve stopped to think about how sexual frustration might affect my game.” I grin menacingly, twisting the handle. “One of us will be taking lots of balls to the face, and it clearly won’t be me.”
The sound of Patsy’s patrons living it up swallows his voice as I open the door and make a beeline for the sidewalk. Nettie watches me storm through the bar and exits shortly after.
Jory might be right. Having sex might ruin everything.
But I lowered my guard, and he rejected me.
Because he cared more about me than sleeping with me?
I balk at that realization as I head toward my house.
“Hey, aren’t we driving?” Nettie shouts from behind me. “I’m in heels.”
“Then take them off,” I say over my shoulder. “I need the fresh air, and you’ve been drinking. It’s just three blocks. We’ll get our cars tomorrow.”
She mutters something that I can’t make out, which is probably for the best.
I growl into the night as I try to sort my jumbled thoughts.
Jory wants me. He won’t take advantage of me. But I have no doubt that he’ll still show up tomorrow.
A smile twists against my lips.
What kind of man are you, Jory Plath?
And what am I going to do with you?
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Markie
“I’m so glad to see you this morning,” Pastor Reed says, shaking my hand as I enter the sanctuary.
“Good morning to you.” I smile and hurry along to make room for Mrs. Trumbull. The church is a flutter of activity. Members of the congregation hang out, catching up on the week’s activities while they wait for Violet Crowder to begin playing the piano. Everyone in Sugar Creek knows that when those first notes are played, you better be finding a seat or you’ll get a side-eye from the pastor.
“Hey, honey,” Lolly says, coming at me with outstretched arms. “How’s my girl?”
“Hey, Lolly.” I kiss her cheek as she pulls me into a hug. “You look pretty today.”
“In this old thing?” She scoffs. “Thank you, sweet girl. Now, you remember that there’s no Sunday dinner today because I’m going with my girlfriends to a little winery over by Knoxville.”
I smile at her. Lolly’s social life is fuller than mine. She and her group of friends are always on the go—visiting wineries, gambling at casinos, and baking pies for the elderly, as Lolly calls them, at the nursing home. Mira and I pointed out once that the nursing home residents were her age.
We never made that mistake again.
“I remember,” I say. “Have so much fun. And bring me back a bottle of wine, please.”
She leans forward, whispering in my ear. “I’ll bring you two. And, although Jesus turned water into wine, let’s not talk about that too much in church, okay?”
I laugh. “Fair.”
“I’ll say goodbye after the service,” she says, patting me on the arm. “I need to go visit with Jessie Mae. I heard she fell out in her garden on Thursday, and I want to check on her before we sit.”
“Go. I’ll see you later.”
I say hello to a few people as I make my way to my seat. My head throbs from the wine that Nettie and I consumed before finally falling asleep last night. I couldn’t make sense of what happened at Patsy’s, and Nettie was virtually no help considering that her advice was to show up at Jory’s house with nothing on but a raincoat and check his restraint again. So I drowned it all with a bottle of red and passed out.
Not the healthiest decision that I’ve ever made, but you can’t win them all.
“Hey,” I say, grabbing an open seat next to Astrid and Gray in the row in front of Gianna, Audrey, and Brooks. “How are you guys—”