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)
“Yeah.”
“What were you working on?”
“Some website updates for a small crafting business.”
“Nice,” he says.
“I like helping creatives earn a living.”
“It can certainly be hard to do these days, what with corporations and piracy.”
“Are we done now?” I ask. “It sort of feels like we should be.”
“No. You need to trust me. I am, after all, a medical practitioner.”
I laugh. “No, you’re not.”
“Just be in the moment with me, June.” He runs his hand over my back like he’s trying to soothe a wild animal or something. Though his fingers pause and stray along the edge of the back of my bra. Just testing the strap or something.
“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.
“Nothing. Sorry. Got distracted.” His hand moves on to rest against my lower back. “Can I say, you have the most perfect curve right here. It’s right above your ass, which is also kind of great if I’m being honest. How do you achieve such perfection?”
“By eating cake.”
“Huh,” he says. “Have I turned the hug horny and made it awkward? I honestly didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.” The truth is, I like it a little too much. “We’re fine.”
“Carrie can be tenacious,” he says out of nowhere. “I don’t think she’s going to give up.”
“Winning you back for herself or for the record company?”
“Both. Normally she gets sick of her toys and discards them. They don’t refuse to play with her.”
I hate this news on numerous levels. Though stuffing any emotions regarding him down deep into the recesses of my soul seems to be working out great for me so far. Best to just focus on this hugging thing. I tighten my hold around his middle and press my cheek against his pec. “Doesn’t seem to be any new information about you on the internet after her visit.”
He tenses. “Okay.”
“Would you rather not talk about it?”
“No,” he says. “I need to know what’s happening.”
“There was some speculation about where you might be. Apparently, you missed an important music industry awards ceremony yesterday.”
“I already have awards and they don’t even feed you at those things.”
“What about snacks?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“You’re kidding me. What a waste of time.”
He sighs. “Exactly.”
When we’re quiet, I can hear his heart beating strong and steady beneath my ear. And then there’s a new sound coming from inside him…he’s humming. Some song that’s sweet and familiar and old. I haven’t heard him sing, whistle, or hum in the time he’s been here. Which is strange, given his apparent love of music. Guess it’s another sign of the burnout. I could happily stand there listening for days.
“Is that ‘Crazy’ by Patsy Cline?” I ask softly. “I love that song.”
He grunts and steps back from me. “We’re done.”
“Oh.”
I have no idea what the look he gives me means. But then he turns his attention back to the piles of laundry on the ground. “I can do this. Audrey’s going to teach me to mop next. I’ve decided to see it as an adventure.”
“What a positive way to approach it.”
“This whole living consciously is kind of nice. Doing stuff for myself. Being more present. I know having the money to make these choices is a fortunate thing. To be able to take a break from hustling and rushing all the time.”
“What’s going on in here?” asks Grandma, appearing in the laundry doorway. She didn’t catch us cuddling, however, so Nash is safe from the stick for now.
“Shit. That reminds me,” he says with a grin. “Great news. I’ve bought the place next door.”
Grandma stares blankly at him. “You did what?”
“Sent an email to my lawyer asking her to make them an offer, and they said yes. We’re going to be neighbors. And my house is taller than yours, so I’ll be able to wave down at you when you’re on your deck!”
“No,” says Grandma, aghast.
“You don’t sunbathe naked or anything, do you, Audrey?” he asks with a grin. “Can’t wait to start inviting friends out here. Think I might start with some band members. What do you think?”
But Grandma has already turned away. “I need a drink.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I should plant some gaura or butterfly bush or whatever it’s called,” says Grandma, nodding to the garden across the road. “Awilda’s looks lovely and healthy. It obviously likes the climate.”
“Pretty.”
Her head turns this way and that, inspecting the rest of the street. “And that’s Rose’s ex’s car parked outside their house. I wonder if they had a sleepover.”
“You mean a hookup?”
“I said what I said.” She drinks her coffee. “They made such a nice couple and seemed so happy. I wouldn’t object to them getting back together.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
She chuckles.
“I have a theory that the only people who know how or why a relationship works are the people in the relationship, and then not even them sometimes.”
“You probably have a point,” she says.