Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Especially from nosy newspaper ladies who like to hide in the bushes.”
Breezy’s laugh is melodic. “Oh my God, I still can’t believe tonight was anything but a fever dream. The tundra dinner, Josie grabbing Eileen by the collar, Lillian flirting with Randy.” She snorts. “I thought your brother was going to choke on his tongue.”
“He’s not as celibate as he seems,” I defend, escalating Breezy’s enjoyment exponentially.
“Oh, don’t worry. Lillian’s lore for rendering men speechless precedes her everywhere she goes. Last year, when Norah and I did a girls’ weekend at a spa in New York with her, I heard some stories that, if told right now, would give all three of us nightmares.”
“Hear that, sweetheart?” I say, talking directly to Breezy’s stomach again, my hand rubbing gently. “Your mom is already protecting you too.”
I glance up just in time to catch Breezy’s breath as it leaves in a silent gasp. Her hand cups my face, the warmth of her palm radiating gratifyingly into my cheek.
“Thank you. Thank you for making what could have been awkward and scary and uncertain feel secure.”
“We’re a team,” I find myself saying aloud before stretching tall, leaning forward, and putting my lips to hers. Unshed, salty tears flavor the back of my throat, the words a bleeding, fatal wound.
But the knowledge that comes with them—the experience in how amazing life can be—and Breezy’s earnest need for my partnership might be the only things that can save me.
And even if they can’t, I make the promise to myself and to her and to the ghosts of my life past and to the universe that I’ll do nothing less than die trying.
The kiss deepens, and just like that, everything else is gone. At least, for a little while, it’s just the two of us.
42
Breezy
Wednesday, April 7th
“Ah, come in, come in!” I welcome Norah and Autumn, waving to Tad as he pulls out of the driveway in his truck to the tune of tire-crunched gravel, headed to meet Randy on an errand to Molene. Norah’s hair is windblown and Autumn’s tiny cherub cheeks rosy with the nip of fresh morning air. I waggle my fingers until the handoff of my sweet niece is done, swinging her in a circle that makes her giggle.
“Beeeeee!” she squeals as I press big kisses to her cute cheeks.
“You seem to be feeling good,” Norah remarks, unwinding her scarf from around her neck and discarding both it and her coat on the back of the nearest kitchen chair.
“I am.” I smile, tickling Autumn’s belly before unzipping her coat and putting it on top of Norah’s. “I think the sickness is passing, and energy-wise, I feel like I just got a burst. I’m going to tackle as much as I can today while it lasts. What have you two been up to this morning?”
“We were at the park downtown,” Norah supplies, turning to the cabinet behind herself to grab a mug and fill it with the freshly brewed coffee in the pot before dropping a bomb of information. “With Uncle Logan.”
“Oh, Norah.”
“Well!” She huffs out a sigh and dramatically holds out both of her hands. “It’s been two weeks since the disaster dinner, and he’s still in town. You and Bennett are both ignoring him—which I’m not criticizing—but I mean, come on. How can I not feel a little bad for the guy?”
“I’m not ignoring him,” I correct. “I’m just protecting myself.”
She snorts. “By ignoring him.”
My sigh is much heavier than the air it’s composed of. “I want to get over it. I do. But every time I see him, I see our father, and I get angry.” I look down at Autumn’s innocent face, the sparkle of her eyes remarkably reminiscent of the one Logan always had as a kid. So much purity, a well of good intention and kind thoughts every human starts with before life and hardship pump it out of them. “But I guess you’re right. Maybe we can try another dinner. At a restaurant, perhaps.” I rub my nose gently against Autumn’s. “Also, a temperature-controlled environment where you don’t have to make my cute niece eat dinner in a snowsuit would be preferred.”
Norah laughs, but that’s quickly followed up by a hum that’s full of satisfaction, and impressively, it’s all the gloating she does before changing the subject. “You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“I’m getting so comfortable standing in Farmer Tad’s kitchen that I’m pouring my own coffee.”
I chuff. “Yeah. Tell me about it, sister. I’m getting comfortable enough in Farmer Tad’s house that I’m considering it my own. Gonna go through some stuff and clean it out when you all leave and everything.”
“Well, technically, it is your home. I mean, you live here now.” She winks. “And holy moly, I never would have predicted you two as a pairing,” she admits. “But Breeze, the man looks really freaking good on you.”