Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Belladonna sat at Sarah’s feet, but the dog looked fucking torn. As if she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing.
Slapping my hands together, I got Sarah’s attention and beamed a bright grin at her. “Let’s get these toppings set out. I’m starving.”
Sarah looked from me back to the kitchen door. “Okay. But first, I want to walk Oakley to the door. Tell her bye again.”
Standing there, I watched as she left the room with Belladonna at her heels to go after her aunt. I didn’t want to hear what they said to each other. It wouldn’t help my mood. Instead, I went about pulling out the things that I knew would go good on chili and setting them on the counter.
Tucked in the fridge was half of an apple pie, brownies with icing ghosts on them, cookies decorated for the spooky season, and less than half of a chocolate pie. The caramel apples sat on a plate, covered in orange and black sprinkles. Was Oakley trying to give my kid diabetes with all this damn sugar?
Closing the fridge door with more force than necessary, I glared at it as if the appliance itself had offended me. Sarah’s and Oakley’s voices traveled down the hallway.
Turning, I walked over to the bar and pulled out my best whiskey. I needed a drink.
Eleven
Oakley
Hamilton was nice.
Okay, well, most females would say he was hot. Sexy. A great catch.
I was struggling to stay interested. Maybe I was broken. Why else would I be forcing a smile while carrying a cup of black coffee to the tall, muscular, successful, blond underwear model? Something had to be wrong with me. Right?
As I entered my living room, he turned from the television show he was watching to me and smiled. He made a lot of money with that smile. Most women swooned over that face of his. Yep, I was defective. That was all there was to it.
“You sure I can’t get you something stronger than coffee?” I asked him as I approached and held out the cup for him to take.
“I can’t. Alcohol makes me retain water, and I have a shoot tomorrow, where I’ll be in nothing but briefs.”
Don’t roll your eyes, Oakley. Do not do it.
I held up my glass of merlot. “Well, cheers anyway.”
With a low, amused chuckle, he tapped his cup against my glass, and then I took a long drink of the smooth red wine. This was our fourth date since the blind date when we had doubled with Daphne and Tanner. Tonight, I had made dinner for us, following Hamilton’s strict diet, due to his next week of photo shoots. It was bland and boring, but he’d raved about the boiled chicken and steamed broccoli as if it had been gourmet.
“You don’t talk much about yourself. We’ve been out four times now, and yet I know very little about you. I know you have your own Etsy store, that you are very close to your niece and text her regularly, that you volunteer at the animal shelter, and you look amazing in a bikini. Tell me something I don’t know,” Hamilton said as he leaned back on my sofa.
I had tried to keep the conversation off me and more on him. Most men with his looks had an ego and liked talking about themselves. He was no exception. I knew where he had gone to high school, his basketball scoring record, his short-lived college career, even his mother’s maiden name. I didn’t mind. I preferred he talk than me tell him things. If he was talking, then I could sit and pretend like I cared. It was cold and indifferent. I knew that, but then I was damaged. He just hadn’t realized it yet.
Trying to think of something to say that would interest him but not give away anything about my past, I almost sighed in relief when my text message alert went off. It was the sound Sarah had chosen for herself in my phone. I smiled and pulled out the phone tucked in my pocket and set my wine on the coffee table.
“Speaking of my niece,” I said to him, then looked down at my phone.
Dad has to go out of town for two days, and he won’t ask you to come stay. He said he had it handled with Ms. Maynard.
Asshole. Why was he being difficult? I had done a great job taking care of her when he was gone last month. It had been three weeks since I’d seen her, and I was missing that sweet face.
I’ll call him.
She immediately texted back.
He will be mad. He wasn’t happy about my room.
My hand tightened on the phone.
The mural? I thought it turned out great!
“Is there a problem? You look upset,” Hamilton asked, reminding me he was there.