Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Bet you want me to take you away now, don’t you?” I ask her and she glares at me, which makes me laugh. I wink at her, which makes her glare at me even more.
“You do know that she is secretly planning to kill you in your sleep,” Zack leans in to whisper in my ear, “and she’s been watching those murder documentaries with her mother since she was like ten, so she can get away with it.”
I laugh as Denise comes back down with a bag. “Here you go, sweetie.” She hands her the bag. “There were a couple of things that you left here the last time you came to visit.”
“Well, now that I’m thrown out of the house”—she grabs the bag from her—“I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
I walk back to Joshua. “You call me if you need anything.” I hold out my hand for him to shake and he slaps it and then we fist-bump. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Will do,” I affirm and then walk toward the kitchen and give Elizabeth a chin up before holding out my hand to her.
She looks at me and then my hand. “You think I’m going to hold your hand?”
“Do you want me to carry your bag?” I ask her, and she ignores me and turns to walk toward the front door.
“Have fun.” Jack slaps me on the shoulder. I follow Elizabeth out, my eyes going to her ass and then flying right back up before someone catches me looking at her like that.
I reach for her big carry-on bag while she slips her shoes back on and I look at her. “Don’t argue with me,” I warn her. “You’ve had a long day.”
“Whatever,” she mumbles and opens the door to walk out of the house. “Which one is yours?” she asks of all the vehicles parked.
“The black truck.” I point to the pickup at the curb. “Right over there.”
“Figures,” she mutters as she walks toward it, “big truck.” She looks over at me, eyes landing on my crotch with a smirk, as she opens the passenger door. “Must be making up for something.”
“We both know I have nothing to make up for.” It’s been over seven years, and this right here is the first time I’ve ever spoken about that fateful night.
“We’ll agree to disagree,” she mumbles but avoids looking at me as she gets in and slams the door shut.
I open the back door, tossing her bag onto the seat before getting into the truck and starting it. She looks out the window the whole time, neither of us saying anything to each other as I pull up to my house.
“Welcome to my home,” I tell her, and she reaches for the door handle and steps out. I grab her bag and head to the house with her following me. “I take it you aren’t up for a tour.”
“You would be correct on that,” she mumbles. “I need a shower and a bed. So if you can point me to that direction.”
I unlock the front door and push it in, excited paws running towards us echo in the entryway.
“Hey, boy.” I put Elizabeth’s bag down and he immediately goes to sniffs it before coming to me and I rub his neck. “This is Whiskey,” I tell her, and she smiles and looks down at my golden retriever dog, who now wags his tail even more when she bends to pet him. “Let me just let him out and then I’ll take you to the room.” She nods at me as I kick off my shoes and head past the staircase toward the back door, opening it and he runs out. I turn around and see her still waiting for me at the front door. Her shoes are now off with mine, her bag’s in her hand waiting for me. “This way,” I say, walking up the steps to the bedrooms.
As soon as we make it to the top of the steps, I look back at her. “This is your bedroom.” I open the door to the right which leads to a room with a queen-size bed that is never used. “Shower is right there.” I point to the door beside her bedroom.
She walks past me and sits on the bed and collapse on it, outstretching her arms to the side. Bean, my cat, jumps onto the bed and just looks at her. “That’s Bean,” I say of the golden cat I rescued not too long ago. “She has trust issues,” I mention when she jumps down off the bed and scurries to her hiding spot. “Do you need anything?”
She gets up on her elbows and looks at me. “No,” she replies, “I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed.”
I nod at her, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest. “I’ll get out of your way, then,” I say and turn back to walk down the stairs to retrieve Whiskey, telling myself this is going to be okay. It’s the happiest season of all, isn’t it?