Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“People probably assume you’ve heard it all and don’t want to make you sad by mentioning them.”
“It makes me sad thinking they’ve been forgotten with time.” She rubs her finger along her forehead and over one temple. “Or worse, the topic of them being tiptoed around like they never existed.”
“They’re not forgotten. Everyone remembers them fondly, Autumn.”
She rests her arms on the wood rail next to mine and taps her sneaker gently against my foot. “Thanks. I like remembering them. I like talking about them.” Her smile is still there, but it’s for her and her parents the way its edges are tipped in softness. She pulls something from her pocket and sets it on the wide rail between us. “My mom gave this to me. She carried it for good luck.” She runs her finger over the raised metal of the bluebird. It’s aged with a patina the way only years of exposure to life and the elements create, and the shiny belly of the bird from often rubbing it. Peeking up at me, she says, “She gave it to me the day she died.”
A lot could be said about that last part, but I’m sure as shit not going to say it. I keep my eyes on the coin instead. “It’s nice you have it.”
“She called it her lucky bluebird but told me she wasn’t giving it to me for luck. She was giving it to me as a reminder.” Grasping it in her hand, she closes her fingers around it and tucks it in her pocket. “This is a lot. I, um . . .” She takes a long and slow breath. It’s the minutest of nods, but I catch it as it satisfies a different emotion that almost took over. “I think we should keep the focus on your healing, not mine.”
“Maybe we both walk away in a better place.”
Her smile shines, easily more beautiful than the setting sun, which is pretty damn spectacular.
“Anyway,” she says, “these flowers bloom near our house every spring and through the summer.”
“I know summer is over, but are they still blooming?”
“A few are still hanging on.”
I stand upright, rolling my shoulders to stretch my muscles. “Maybe you can show me before they’re gone.”
“I didn’t take you for a flower guy.”
“I’m not. I’m a get-to-know-Autumn guy.”
A pause begins to extend before she laughs and pokes me in the abs. “Your charms won’t work on me, Lieutenant.” Walking back to the house, she says, “I’m going to start dinner.”
“It’s already in the oven.”
Stopping, she looks back, impressed, judging by her raised brow and a slight grin hanging onto one side of her mouth. “You really are a charmer, but I’m here to take care of you, not the reverse.”
“You’re building it up too much. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“What are we having?”
Walking toward her, I reply, “Lasagna again. Hope you don’t mind leftovers.”
Her smile grows fast. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s so good.” She starts for the door and opens it. “I need to ask Brenda for the recipe.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to share it with you.” I grab the door. She walks inside, and I follow her. I’m hit with the delectable scent of garlic and marinara filling the air when I enter the house again. My stomach growls, so I rub my hand over it. “I’m starving.”
“Hungry is a good sign.” She grabs the oven mitts I left on the counter just as the timer goes off. I get plates from the cabinet while she takes the dish out of the oven, but stop when I realize how natural this is for us to move around in each other’s space. There’s no pressure to perform or a feeling of walking on eggshells. It’s easy being with her.
Stripping the gloves from her hands, she says, “Your face is looking good.”
“A bit forward, Nurse, but I appreciate the compliment.” I send her a wink.
Her features flick through about fifty emotions before landing on humor again. “I was talking about the swelling and bruising. I’d like to get a closer look.”
“You don’t have to ask to do your job.”
“It’s only polite. It will just take a minute. I can examine you while the food cools from scalding to an edible temperature.” She starts for the living room, stopping next to the large windows.
Unsure what to do, I stand in front of her and let her ogle me. “How do you want me?”
The room is so quiet I hear her suck in a short breath before exhaling. “Stay just like that.” She runs a finger lightly over my shoulder, her gaze fixed on me. “I think we should remove the bandages and let you take a shower. How do you feel about that range of motion?”
I lift my arm. The slightest of pain slithers through my muscles, causing me to close my eyes and breathe through it. I open my eyes while lowering my arm again, and reply, “I should be fine.”