Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
He rolls his shoulders. “It was bound to happen at some point.”
A beat passes between us. Tucker shifts his body weight, his elbow hitting me in the side accidentally.
“What’s up with you? You’re acting like you love her.”
“I like her a lot.”
Tucker extends his hand to me. “Peace offering?” I shake his hand, and he adds, “So, we’re good?”
I nod.
“Good luck.” He leans back, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you still entering the bachelor auction?”
“I committed to it last year.”
“I figured you’d bail because of Jemma.”
Every year, the sororities team up to host Strickland University’s Player Auction to raise money for charity.
He removes a pair of headphones from his bag and kicks it under the seat before him. “You think Jemma will bid on you?”
“I guess we’ll see.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jemma
My parents invite their employees and families to Thanksgiving dinner every year. It’s a Walcott tradition. My father always treats his workers as if they’re a part of our family. My father’s mentality is the reason for his success. Because of how he treats people, Walcott Dairy runs like a well-oiled machine.
Corey is the one person I knew I’d see but was hoping wouldn’t show. My ex. The man I left behind to pursue what I thought was a better life, only to discover that the grass is not always greener on the other side.
My three older brothers—Mark, Connor, and Pat—take their usual places on the couch. They watch football with my dad, who lounges in his oversized chair. A crowd of their friends and coworkers surround them, some standing where others have found a place on the floor or leaning against the wall.
The scent of turkey wafts through the air, and I hear my mother humming a tune from the kitchen. She does that when she cooks. Unlike Jordan and me, who are tone-deaf, my mother has a beautiful singing voice.
I stand at the edge of the living room, watching the men drink beer from frosty steins and yell at the football game. My father and brothers love their football, especially on Thanksgiving.
Jordan hangs out in the kitchen with my mom and aunts. I’m not much of a cook and couldn’t care less about football. I only care about my mom’s famous deep-fried turkey and her buttery mashed potatoes that melt on your tongue.
My mom calls us for dinner.
We gather in the massive dining room that boasts an old wooden farm table that spans most of the room. My dad always sits at the head of the table with my mother on his right and my brothers on his left. Jordan plops down next to me. Her flowery perfume and the delicious scent of her cornbread stuffing fill my nostrils.
Jordan sets the dish on the table in front of us, a bright smile on her face. She’s proud of her work.
The room fills with laughter and chatter, the air humming with excitement. I glance around the table and smile. I missed my family and hadn’t realized how much until now.
John Collins, my father’s friend and business partner, sits beside me, leaving a gap between us. The open space is noticeable, and I wonder why he’s sitting so far away. And then I see him. Corey. He’s at the end of the table talking to some of his friends from work.
He laughs, his fingers moving through his shaggy brown hair, pushing it off his forehead. His muscles bulge beneath his sweater that’s rolled up to his elbows. Years of working outside have given him a beautiful body. My throat closes when his eyes meet mine, nerves shaking me to the core.
We haven’t spoken since I left for college. Corey promised he would allow me to experience everything without interference from him. And he kept his word. I also said we would talk when I came home for a break. My life is a mess right now. I’m not ready to decide.
Corey finishes his conversation at the end of the table before strolling over to me. He sits next to me, a grin plastered on his handsome face. In every way, he’s still the boy I met in grade school. The same man I left behind. But I’m not the same. Everything has changed since I transferred to Strickland University.
“Jemmy,” Corey whispers, the nickname only he uses for me as he leans in to kiss my cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
My skin burns from his delicate touch. “You, too,” I mutter.
“How come you look so surprised to see me?”
I pause for a second. It’s not that I’m surprised. “I’m not,” I lie. “You should try the cornbread stuffing before it’s gone.” I nod at the half-empty bowl in front of me. “Jordan didn’t make as much as she usually does. With all these mouths to feed, grab some while you can.”
“Right.” He sighs, reaching for the spoon sticking out from the bowl. “I guess I better get on that.”