Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Rumors are just rumors,” he replied. “My focus is here with this team. Tonight’s win belonged to the players. They earned it.”
“That’s humble talk,” the reporter teased. “But you’re one of the youngest assistant coaches in the league. What would it feel like, to become one of the youngest head coaches in the future?”
“We will take the future as it comes,” Shane said with a small shrug. “For now, this is where I want to be.”
My fingers closed slowly around the shirt in my hands. I felt my pulse beating in my throat, sharp and unsteady. The reporter said something else to dismiss Shane, and he smiled at the camera, giving a little wave before he excused himself.
I found myself smiling, too.
“Good God, Georgie.”
I jumped a little at the baritone of my husband entering the room.
Husband.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to that.
My heart bloomed even as it beat double time as Nathan swept into the room, like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have been doing rather than folding laundry. But I also beamed at his presence, at my handsome husband joining us. Any time he walked into a room, I lit up like a firework.
Nathan swiped the bag of chips out of Georgie’s hand. “We just had dinner.”
“That was thirty minutes ago!” my little brother defended with a grin.
It was then that I noticed the tumbler of dark liquor in Nathan’s hand.
That’s odd, I thought. He doesn’t usually drink at home.
“You’re going to eat us out of the house,” Nathan said, which made us all laugh, even if the joke did sound a bit aggressive. “Might be time to get a job so you can contribute to the grocery bill. God knows your sister doesn’t.”
That comment killed the laughter.
Both my and Georgie’s smile faltered. He glanced at me, a question in his eyes, and I flushed furiously before smiling to cover my confusion.
What the heck was that?
“I’m just messing with you, kid,” Nathan said, grabbing a chip before he handed the bag back to Georgie and ruffled his hair. “Eat all you want. You’ve got it good now.”
I blinked repeatedly, my stomach sloshing with anxiety soup. I thought it was from Shane being on the TV, but now…
Nathan crossed to me next, plopping down on the floor next to where I sat. He wrapped me up from behind and kissed my hair. “That was a nice smile you had when I walked in,” he said, eyes flicking to the TV. Thankfully, it was on game highlights now, Shane no longer on screen. “Wish I got more of that smile.”
I swallowed, trying to shake off the weird feeling in my gut. “What do you mean? You get all my smiles.”
“Not that one. I wasn’t even in the room.”
I blinked again.
What was he getting at here?
Before I could wrap my head around the confusing comment, Nathan chuckled, leaning his chin on my shoulder and looking at the folded clothes in front of me.
“You’re so cute when you try to be domestic,” he said, picking up one of his night shirts I’d folded. He eyed it with amusement as he took a sip of the liquor in his glass. “Georgie, did you teach your sister how to fold, or did she learn from watching another toddler?”
Georgie’s smile was strained, and again, his eyes caught mine, like he was unsure what to say or how to react.
That makes two of us, I thought.
“I’m teasing you!” Nathan said, elbowing me.
I laughed, but it felt stranger than anything that had ever left my lips before.
My heart was pounding in my ears, but I didn’t know why.
“Here, let me show you,” Nathan said, and he kissed my cheek sweetly before holding up his shirt and instructing the proper way to fold it. Once he’d finished, he watched me re-fold three shirts before he seemed satisfied. “There you go. You’ll get the hang of it.”
He stood then, saying he needed to do some work in his study before he was humming his way down the hall like nothing had happened.
I stared at the shirts I had refolded, every edge sharp and straight, exactly the way he wanted them.
A thin line of unease coiled beneath my ribs.
It was small enough to ignore.
It was easy enough to swallow.
But it was the first crack in the glistening picture he’d painted for us.
I felt it — even if I didn’t realize what it was.
Finish the Job
Ariana
Present
“Okay, charcuterie and antipasto are out and ready,” I murmured to myself, ticking items off on my fingers as I paced around the kitchen. “Chicken Marsala is prepped to go in the oven… which is preheated… orzo and broccolini ready to go in right after… tiramisu chilling in the fridge… wine decanted…”
I exhaled, a nervous, excited laugh slipping out.
It was a Friday night in mid-November, one of those rare Florida evenings where the air felt cool enough to pretend it was fall. The windows were cracked, letting in a breeze that carried the faint scent of orange blossoms and saltwater. And I was hosting my first real dinner since our move.