Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
I blink at him. I’m not touched by this gesture. I’m not even a little bit curious about what it could be. “Showing up where I live is stalking.”
He doesn’t look bothered by the accusation at all. He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb toward the house where Walt is peeking out through the blinds in the living room window. “I was invited.”
I didn’t tell my grandfather what happened yesterday when I met Noah at the bookstore. I’m not sure how he would react. He seems protective of me, but I’m still feeling my way through our relationship.
I put my hands on my hips and do my best to scowl at the handsome cowboy. “You’re a weirdo, you know that, right?”
He’s still holding out the package to me wordlessly. Whatever is inside, he wants me to see it. I finally relent and take the package from him.
I’ve rarely gotten gifts. I don’t know what Noah could be giving me. We barely know each other.
A little gasp comes from my mouth when I see the leather-bound set. With trembling fingers, I flick open the cover and scan the first page. As I suspected, this is a three-volume collection of Pride and Prejudice.
My gaze fills with tears as I think of years of birthdays uncelebrated. Of a little girl trying to convince herself that her mom was lying. She was special enough for a birthday. One day, she’d have one. She’d have a big party to celebrate with a hundred friends who liked her and thought she was pretty. Stupid, foolish kid.
“I can’t accept this,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. I try to hand the books back to him, but Noah won’t accept them.
“Take the books. You’ll be getting lots of gifts from me.”
I shouldn’t accept it. I know the man is nuts with a capital N. But I still find myself clutching the musty volumes close to my chest.
Something lights in his gaze when I accept the books, like it makes him happy to see me with them.
“That’s only part of the gift,” he says and offers me the bouquet of red Gerbera daisies.
I shake my head, unable to fathom that there could be more. I’m nobody. Why does he even care about making me happy? “It’s OK. I have to go anyway.”
As if the universe is confirming my good sense to get out of here, a car horn honks. I turn to see Dotty’s little red car, the one she affectionately calls “rust bucket”, at the end of the driveway. She sticks her arm out of the driver’s side window and waves me forward. Her car doesn’t have a reverse or…like to start, so she’s idling as she waits for me.
I tuck the books carefully into the bag, trying not to let him see how much this means to me. I learned a long time ago not to get attached to things or people. I never get to have either for very long. “I’ll see you around.”
“Wait, Lizzy.” He reaches out and puts a hand on my cardigan-clad arm. Even through the soft, worn fabric, I still feel his touch. I feel it everywhere. “Where are you going?”
I frown. I’m not used to having anyone ask where I am. As it is, I’m barely getting used to checking in with Walt. “Just out with the girls.”
His features darken. “Will men be there?”
I bark out a laugh. Even if there would be, I’ve never been the type of woman that turns a man’s head. I mean, I’m pretty. But I lack the natural confidence to attract a guy. Still, I think of all the book boyfriends that we’ll inevitably discuss when I’m with my friends. “Yeah, there will be loads of men.”
He nods. “Alright then, I’m coming too.”
“No, you’re not,” I sputter out. I can only imagine what the girls will think if I show up at Sadie’s bakery with Noah on my arm. Yeah, that’s the reason he can’t tag along. It has nothing to do with the way he makes me feel warm all over or the way he looks at me like he sees me. For a girl who’s been overlooked her whole life, that feeling is dangerous.
“You’re not parading around town in front of a bunch of other men until you’re wearing my ring on your finger,” he growls.
I’m pretty sure this ridiculous man is serious. “Stop being a weirdo! We’re going to taste-test Sadie’s desserts and discuss book boyfriends. There won’t be any actual men there.”
Dotty beeps her horn again. Her rust bucket burns through gas. I’ll make sure to pass her a few dollars to make up for keeping her waiting.
Noah is still holding onto my arm, and he doesn’t look convinced. “Give me your phone.”
I hesitate. It’s not that I don’t trust Noah. For some strange reason, I do. It’s that I never know what to expect from him next. “Why?”