Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
“I should have known,” he says as we pull away from one another. I go back to my coffee, sucking it down instead of enjoying the sweet concoction. My nerves have the best of me right now, worried I’ll forget every lick of training I’ve completed the past few weeks.
“Should have known what?” Mom comes around the corner, fastening an earring while looking from me to my dad.
“That your daughter would ask for a ride at the final hour and evade the point that her father is right for once in her life.” Mom laughs, rolls her eyes, and shoots me a wink.
“She’s a smart girl, knows how to play the game. I’ve taught her well. Safe to assume you ran out to grab her that?” she teases. Mom always says she trained Dad well. They married the year before I was born, give or take thirty-five years ago, but they’ve known each other since Dad transferred to Mom’s high school his senior year.
“You know the answer to that, Eloise.” He grabs Mom’s preferred hot tea with honey and a dash of milk and hands it to her.
“You’re the best, hon,” she replies.
“So I’ve been told. Okay, let’s get this show on the road, or our girl is going to be late, and we can’t have that.” Dad grabs the keys off the hook, spinning them around his finger before clasping them in his palm.
“That’s all you’ve packed?” Mom looks down at the carry-on I have packed with a spare uniform, a pair of pajamas, an outfit, my toiletries, and my tablet to play on at the hotel room if one is necessary. They prepare you for all of this during training. It’s better to be packed and ready than to have nothing at all, especially considering the airline I’m working with does international flights.
“Yep, it’s not like I’m going on vacation,” I say with a snort. We’re both notorious over packers, and while I’ve had to pack and repack multiple times, I somehow made it work.
“Well, then, I guess it’s time we get on the road. This reminds me of the last time we dropped you off, only it was for college,” Mom says excitedly, forgetting the fact that I’m thirty-four years old, living at home, all while asking for a ride to work.
“Yeah, a barrel of fun.” I wince saying it under my breath, back turned and wheeling my suitcase through the house. I’d rather my mom stay happy. I’m not exactly excited to make her feel bad when it’s me having a tough go of it.
“Mom, Dad, I really do need to get going.” I check my watch on my wrist, noting the time and worrying my bottom lip with my teeth. This is part of the reason why I didn’t want them to drop me off or pick me up; they’re semi-retired and on their own time. Dad picks up a contract here and there with the Department of Transportation, and Mom works at the local library a few days a week.
“Right, let’s get a move on.” Dad comes up beside me and takes my suitcase out of my hand, dropping the handle and picking it up. We move in separate directions once we clear the door to the garage. Mom goes to the front passenger seat, Dad heads to the trunk with my bag, and I move to the back seat.
I glance at my watch again once I’m settled in my seat and belted in. I’m wondering if this was the right decision, if maybe I wasn’t subconsciously choosing my newfound career for a different reason entirely.
Dad enters the car and goes about getting everything adjusted, which isn’t much seeing as how he only just came home about ten minutes ago from Oak & Brew. The garage door is still open, and with a push of the button, the SUV comes to life. A sports commentator blares through the speaker.
“Frank, turn it down. I swear I’ll be deaf before too long when we’re in the car together.” Mom isn’t wrong. There’s a slight ringing in my ears. He turns it down, and I tune everything out.
My thoughts drift to a man. Specifically, a man who gave me a night that still plays like a reel in my head every time I go to bed. There’s something to be said about a memorable man who delivered more orgasms in one night than Chad the chode ever gave me in the handful of years we were together. Obviously, that’s because he was giving his all to his secretary, or maybe she wasn’t getting off, either. Whatever the case, it’s not my problem anymore, at least with my ex-boyfriend/conniving asshole. I guess you could say I still harbor a lot of anger and hostility when it comes to the Millers and everyone who is part of their family. Other than that, there is no love lost. In all honesty, being away from him and thinking about Tysen, the man whose touches I can still feel along my skin, makes me well aware of that fact. My nipples pebble, the muscles in my thighs tighten, and I’m back in the hotel room again.