Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I look at Logan.
“We’re picking up Benett,” he tells me, reaching across the space between us to touch my hand that is resting on the seat at my hip.
“Have you met Benny?” Missy asks me.
“I don’t think so.”
“You’ll love him, he’s the sweetest.” She rests her hand on Hanson’s arm. “Obviously not as sweet as my Hanson.”
Okay, I’ve read the grumpy sunshine trope a few dozen times, but I’ve never imagined how that might play out in real life. I guess I’m going to get a front row seat to it tonight, and I have to say I’m not sure I’m really excited about it.
“So, tell me,” Missy says, turning around in her seat to look at me as Hanson pulls out onto the street. “How did you meet Logan?”
Oh god, I don’t want to do this, not anytime but for sure not right now when I’m still trying to figure out for myself what is happening between Logan and me.
“She brought her car into the shop,” Logan answers.
“Aww, that’s how I met Hanson.” She smiles, reaching over to touch the back of Hanson’s neck, then looks at me. “The van that I use to haul all my stuff around for work needed a custom wrap, so I called a number given to me by a friend, and next thing you know, I’m dating this guy.”
“What kind of work do you do?” My guess is a hair stylist, makeup artist, or maybe Miss Tennessee. I can totally picture her on stage, wearing a crown with a sash across her body, holding two dozen roses, talking about how she’s going to save the cows or whatever Miss Tennessee’s cause is.
“I’m a real estate agent.” She smiles at me. “I’m the number one seller in Nashville and number eight in the state.”
“Really?” Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. I bet she’s amazing at approaching clients and closing deals with her bubbly personality. “Do you know April Mayson?”
“Are you kidding? Of course, I know her. How do you know her?”
“She’s my cousin,” I tell her, and she throws her head back laughing.
“I knew I was going to like you," she tells me. Then she shares how she met April, and that before April got married, they used to hang out, but they don’t see each other as often anymore. It's not a surprise now that April is married to Maxim and they have a kid. She spends all her time with her husband and son.
Before long we are stopping in front of a small bungalow type house with a neat little yard and a Harley parked out front next to a fancy pickup truck. When the front door opens a good-looking guy with a shaved head and a scruffy jaw step outside and Missy rolls down her window shouting.
“Benny boy, I’ve missed you.”
“Missy.” He lumbers towards the car, shaking his head, and she laughs loudly.
Opening the back door, he bends down and looks inside at Logan and me.
“I’ll sit in the middle,” I tell Logan when he starts to scoot my way.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” He might not mind, but his legs are a mile long and his knees are already pressed up against the back of the seat, so if Benett sits next to him, it’s just going to be worse. And not just for him, since it seems that Benett is just as tall as he is.
“It’s fine.” I look over at Benett. “Do you want to come around to this side?”
“Yeah.” He slams the door shut and I scoot towards Logan and put on my seatbelt, a second later his friend slides in next to me. A second after that Logan wraps his arm over my lap placing his hand between Benett and me. I don’t say anything about the territorial display even though I probably should. I also probably shouldn’t like it, but I do.
“Since no one else is going to introduce you, Nalia, Benett, Benny, Nalia.”
“Hey.” I smile over at him, and he jerks up his chin while slamming his door.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Missy says, and Hanson pulls away from Benett’s house.
Sixteen
NALIA
As Hanson drives, I learn that he is cautious but has no problem doing at least ten to fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit. I also learn that he might be driving, but Missy is in charge of the music. She plays every single Taylor Swift song with an up-tempo beat and sings each at the top of her lungs while dancing. And even though I love Taylor just as much as the next Swiftie, I’m half tempted to reach up front, grab her cell, and toss it out of the window.
“Are you okay?” Logan asks in a whisper, his breath warming my ear. Turning my head, his face is just a couple of inches from mine, and with his hand still wrapped over my lap, I’m literally surrounded by him.