Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“No, but we can tell them we kept it long-distance. Video calls and text messages. Then there are the letters you sent me.” As soon as I say the words, I grin. It’s kind of fun sitting here with my fake boyfriend and building our cover story.
He chuckles. “I sent you letters?”
I sigh dreamily. “The most romantic ones.”
“Cool. Then you sent me sexy selfies wearing lingerie.”
I hastily amend, “Maybe they weren’t that romantic.”
“Maybe you were fully clothed in the selfies.” He gives me a grin before he sighs and makes a U-turn.
“Why are we going back to town? Did you forget something?”
“I had plans to take you to my place for lunch, but Ernie’s is probably a better idea.”
“Because people will see us together?” I ask. It makes perfect sense. We shouldn’t waste the opportunity to be seen especially since Thea has already made an announcement confirming our relationship.
“Because if I get you alone, it won’t be long before your pants are around your ankles and my head is between those sweet thighs.”
My cheeks flame at his words even though I really like that image. Still, I’ve never trusted another person with my body, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to. I whisper softly, “That wasn’t part of the deal, Zac.”
Chapter 8
Zac
Sunday morning is for praising Jesus, and Sunday afternoon is for eating until you roll away from the picnic table. At least, that’s how things are in Courage County.
I have to say, after spending the last ninety minutes with sweet little Dotty pressed up against my side, my thoughts were a little less holy and a lot more sinful. Pretty sure God understands. After all, he crafted the beauty beside me.
She kept fidgeting the entire time, shifting this way and that, just like she did at the diner on Friday when I sat beside her. I’d think it’s something about me, but after what she said that morning about breakfast, I think it’s her.
She’s not comfortable in her skin. It’s something I plan to help her with because she’s perfect. She’s a masterpiece and every roll, every curve, every freckle, all of her fills me with delight.
“Over here,” Mom calls, waving me and Dotty over to where she is at the serving table in the grassy field next to the church.
We’re having a potluck dinner this afternoon. Thea said to take a few selfies and post them which means it officially counts as date number one. And I only have three of them to make my girl fall in love with me.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” Dotty mutters beside me, clutching a two-liter bottle of soda to her chest like it might be snatched from her any moment.
I loop my arm around hers and steer her toward the table that’s already piled high with delicious food. “We’ll have a great time.”
“Think of the byline,” she mutters to herself, and I try to ignore the tiny stab of hurt. I got her into this by promising her the article, and I don’t regret that. I’d give Dotty the world if she asked. I want her to enjoy my company the way I do hers.
I take the soda from her and place it on the drink table before leading her to the sides. I grab two plates. “Tell me what you want.”
She snorts under her breath. “You don’t want to know.”
I frown. “I want to know everything you want.”
Something flickers across her face, and she shakes her head. “Potato salad, please. I can fix my own plate. You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”
“Oh, honey, let him,” Martha says. “A man in love needs to take care of his woman. It’s primal.”
Dotty turns the color of a tomato. “It’s just—”
I can’t help smirking at her. “Indulge my primal side, sweetheart.”
If possible, she gets even redder as my mom bustles over in her wheelchair. She looks so delighted today. Actually, now that I think about it, she’s been looking happier every time I stop by at home. At first, I thought she was happy to see me. Now I suspect something else is going on.
She makes small talk with my soon-to-be wife while I fix the plates and nudge her to the picnic tables where all the Maples are seated, including Noah’s friend, Walter.
Walter runs the bookshop in town. He’s also the grandfather of Noah’s girl, Lizzy. He’s talking with Noah, something about the latest bestseller, but when he thinks no one is looking, his gaze goes to my mom. I’m pretty sure it’s not because he’s in the mood for a second helping of her potato salad.
Is that who is making her so happy lately? I’m not sure she’d answer if I asked. She’s still convinced we’re kids that have to be protected.
“Sit here,” I guide Dotty toward the bench so she can sit next to Sadie and Barrett. But then I realize this will have her sandwiched between me and Barrett. Even though he’s my brother and he’s completely in love with Sadie, I still can’t stand the idea of her sitting next to another man. So I slide into the bench first and gesture for her to sit next to me.