Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
The bottle hits the counter with a thud, and he jerks his chin toward the glass. “Come on. All your hard work deserves a shot to celebrate.” His wink is powerful, hitting me in all the right spots as I pick up the glass, and we clink them together.
“To the cheater catcher,” he announces with a big smile.
“Yeah, yeah. The former cheater catcher, if I listen to you.” I laugh, tipping the glass to my lips and swallowing the burning liquid in one gulp.
“You can still come in here on Friday nights,” he says with a heartbreaking smile as he drops his glass to the bar. “Just leave the other guys at home.”
“The cheaters, you mean?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs one muscular shoulder, and his smile is so addictive, I wonder if it should be considered illegal. “Feels like I might not want to see you with a good one either.”
“Why not?”
His golden-brown eyes sparkle. “Thinking maybe I’d like to see you with me.”
“Ah,” I hum. “I see now. Maybe there’s a secret agenda to getting me to stop catching cheaters, then…”
“Only in my dreams. In the real world, my agenda’s fully on the up-and-up—swear.”
I roll my eyes, shoving off the stool and adjusting the waistband of my jeans. He’s undeniably attractive and, by all accounts, a good guy, but if I stay here any longer, I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up in a different kind of trouble. “Goodnight, Clay.”
“Goodnight, Josie,” he says with a smile, snapping the end of his rag out in the air and making it crack.
I turn and strut my way out of the bar, putting a little extra sway in my hips just for him. I don’t look back to see if he’s watching, but I feel like it’s undeniable that he is.
I shove through the front door and out into the parking lot, looking up at the crisp black Vermont sky and soaking in the slight chill of late spring night air. It feels good on my overheated skin, and the stars shine bright in the inky dark.
A rush of air from inside pours out behind me, and before I know what’s happening, I’m being spun around and pulled toward Clay’s warm body. There’s a question in his eyes as he looks down at me and a beat of pause while he waits for me to stop him.
But he feels good, and I’m too overcome by the endorphins to think better of it. His lips meet mine in a soft mesh of breath and tongues, and he sinks his hand into the wild curls of my hair.
My stomach flips at the feel, and I chase at recreating it as he swipes my tongue with his own. He tastes of vodka and fresh mint, and I’m not done exploring the combination when he pulls away.
He smiles and rubs a soft thumb over my lips before turning for the door. “That,” he says. “Now that, Josie Ellis, is a goodbye.”
Nope. I’m not done at all.
3
Clay
Sunday, May 25th
Josie bows her head in prayer in the pew to my left, her Grandma Rose at her side.
She looks beautiful as always, but this morning, the long sleeves of her baby-blue dress cover the tattoo sleeve on her right arm. Last night was the first time I found myself studying it up close, and now, they’re etched in my mind. Even with them covered, I can still perfectly imagine the colorful mix of the monarch butterfly, fading sunset, Venus flytrap, and female superhero with a high red ponytail and fiery eyes that are engraved into her skin. And the thought of all of that hiding away under there, while she sits demurely in a pretty dress next to her sweet grandmother, makes me smile.
I’m not usually much of a churchgoer myself, but I’ve seen her coming out of here enough on my drive to Molene to pick up kegs to know this is where I’d find her on a Sunday morning.
And this Sunday morning, in particular, I had to find her. If I concentrate hard enough, I can still taste a hint of her on my lips from last night’s kiss.
Thankfully, everyone in town is eager enough for me to join in on the worship session to let the idiosyncrasy of my presence go, and I blend in like butter into hot potatoes.
I bow my head too, but not without sneaking in a lingering look at Josie’s serene face. Her features are delicate in contrast to her strong personality, and her wild curls are clipped up at the back of her head to keep them out of her eyes.
“O Lord, do not withdraw from us your Word and Spirit, but grant us a strong faith, patience, and steadfastness in all suffering and adversity. Help and sustain us, your children, and deliver us from opposition, ridicule, and tyranny. We pray this Sunday in particular for our great and loving friends, the Grift Family, as they prepare to welcome a new member of their precious family and ours, sweet baby Ginny, who we ask to come safely and prosperously in your loving hands and for a smooth and seamless delivery for Kate,” Reverend Bob prays from his spot on the stage. “As always, we thank you for your gifts and opportunities and for this beautiful community we call home before we’re called home to you. Amen.”