Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Grandma passes me some tissues.
“What?” snaps Carrie.
“You heard me,” he continues in a more relaxed tone. “June said no more than two, but I think three bundles of joy is a nice even number.”
Carrie looks me over with no small amount of disgust. “You can’t be serious.”
“Though when you think about it, five would make it easier to form two teams for activities on family holidays. It would just be me making up the extra most of the time, since June doesn’t sport. But someone has to sit on the sideline and cheer, right?”
My eyes are as wide as twin moons. While I am getting used to being his shield against unwanted attention, this feels like a drastic acceleration.
Carrie’s eyes harden to stone. “You can’t keep hiding here. One leak to the media would blow this bullshit sky high. I could have more cameras in this shitty town than people within the hour.”
“Goodness, that was fast,” says Grandma. “I was wondering how long you could pretend to play nice.”
“Go fuck yourself, Audrey.”
Grandma just smiles. “You know, throwing you out of the house the day he realized how conniving and backstabbing you are is one of my favorite memories.”
“There goes the vibe,” he says. “It’s time for you to leave. Any media comes to town, and I start giving interviews neither you nor the record company are going to appreciate.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Grandma sets her empty coffee cup on the small table between us. “You should start work on your memoir.”
“We’d kill any such effort to sully the company’s reputation with ease,” says Carrie.
“Our lawyers would probably be fighting it out for years,” agrees Nash. “Though I can’t think of a better way to spend the money.”
“Aaron, be reasonable!”
“This is about as reasonable as I get.” He scratches his stubble. “You should go. I can’t have you upsetting June in her delicate condition. It isn’t good for her or the twins.”
Carrie’s mouth falls open in much the same manner as a snake unhinging its jaw to devour prey.
“You heard him,” says Grandma. “Get off my property before your presence salts the ground or summons demons or something.”
“That’s honestly sort of mean to demons,” I mumble.
The woman stomps her ass back to her sports car in her high heels. And he watches her go with a frown.
“Are you alright?” asks Grandma.
Nash gives her an easy smile. “She was bound to turn up sooner or later. Thank you for defending me, Audrey. And for the fake pregnancy, June.”
“I know it’s petty and wrong to enjoy aggravating someone,” says Grandma. “But when it comes to her, I just can’t help myself. Do you think we’ll be seeing the media?”
“I don’t know.”
And now none of us are smiling.
“This is impossible,” says a deep familiar voice. “Just impossible.”
I follow it down the hallway to find Nash standing in the laundry surrounded by piles of clothes. And the expression on his handsome face is pure frustration.
“What’s wrong?”
“Audrey told me to sort the dirty laundry,” he says, in a tone suggesting he’s experiencing some sort of existential crisis. “Because obviously we wash them in groupings.”
“Right.”
“My first thought was function.” Hands on hips, he shakes his head. “Sleepwear, sportswear, intimate apparel, the things we wear during the day, and the nicer stuff we have on when we go to the bar. Then I wondered if she also meant type of material. Cotton, bamboo, silk, polyester and so on. But that made so many smaller piles within the larger piles. It got out of hand really quickly.”
“I can see that.”
“Back when I was young we’d just shove everything into a machine at the laundromat and hope for the best. This is much more intense.”
“Usually, you just sort them into light and dark colors.”
“Light and dark? That’s it?” he asks. “For fuck’s sake.”
I smile.
“Let’s move on,” he says, coming toward me with arms open wide. Then his strong arms wrap around me, and my face is mooshed against his hard chest. The man is holding me, and also, he smells ridiculously good. Salt and sage and something that’s just him. “There we go.”
“Nash, what are we doing?”
“I was thinking about you not being touchy-feely because you weren’t hugged enough.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I’m okay.”
His hold on me tightens. “Don’t fight it, June. I’m doing this for your own good.”
“What would Grandma say?”
“Hush now.”
I don’t mean to keep sniffing him, however, it’s kind of hard not to. He’s big and warm and solid in comparison to my softer self. And I like being this close to him more than is safe. “Are we done?”
“Not just yet,” he says, resting his cheek on top of my head. “I need you to fully commit and put your arms around me.”
I do as asked.
“Thank you,” he says. “You finished for the day?”