Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Will do,” Jensen assures her and walks over with my mother as he explains where walls will go and how the kitchen is going to be set up. Then he walks over to the front. “And from here we are going to knock down this wall,” he says of the front wall, “and push it out twelve feet so we can add some tables. We were also thinking of maybe even extending this side wall about ten feet, so we can make an even bigger kitchen.”
“A bigger kitchen,” my mother ponders, “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Mom, you were always complaining that it was too small and you were bumping into things and there wasn’t enough storage,” I remind her. “Now is the time.”
“How much would all of that cost?” she asks nervously.
“That isn’t an issue,” Oliver speaks up, “we’ll do it.” My mother whirls toward him. “She’ll do it.” He smirks at her. “Better?”
“No, not better.”
“Okay, lovebirds, no fighting in front of company,” I tease, looking back at Jensen. “What are we looking at in terms of how long it will take?”
“Well, believe it or not, we have some folks here who will volunteer to do some of the work. Plus, my crew and another crew coming down from another section, we should be able to be working around the clock.”
“What?” my mother whispers as Oliver goes to her and puts his arm around her shoulders.
“The community has banded together to help rebuild this,” Jensen explains and even I am shocked.
She turns in his arms and cries into his shoulder as he rubs her arm. “So we can start tomorrow?” Oliver asks, and he nods.
“Our supplier had everything in stock. I already got approval from the county to expand, so let’s say, we start tomorrow at six a.m.”
We finish talking to Jensen, and when he walks out, I look over at my mother. “This is going to be good,” I assure her, and she nods. “It’s going to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Not everything,” she mumbles, “but it’ll be close.” I look at her, trying to catch her eye to see what she meant by that, but she turns her head toward Oliver. “We’re going to have a nice chat, you and I.”
“Oh,” he responds, “I can’t wait. Shall we get going so we can get this chat over with?” He slips his hand in hers and brings it to his lips. “Or how about I treat you guys to breakfast at the diner?” He pulls her out of the shop, and we head over to the diner.
We have a late breakfast and head home. When my phone rings, I look down to see it’s Autumn. “Hey,” I answer, smiling when I hear Landon in the background.
“Hey,” she says, “are you free tonight?”
“That depends. Does he have chubby hands and a gummy smile?”
“Sadly, no.” She laughs. “Our bartender called out sick. Brady has a baseball game with Wyatt, so I’m up to work.”
“Oh, fun,” I say. “Do you need help?”
“Yes, I need someone to help me not fall asleep.”
“Done, I’ll be there after dinner.”
“Actually, come early, and we can grab a burger.”
“Fine, twist my arm.” I laugh. “I’ll see you at five.”
“Perfect,” she says, disconnecting.
I take a shower before putting on a touch of makeup and sliding on the pair of tight white jeans I think I wore in high school. Putting on a white lace bra, I see the mark he left me yesterday on display, so I change it to one that is more of a bralette. I slide on the light peach, button-down, short-sleeved shirt, leaving the top four buttons open before tucking the front in and letting the back hang down past my ass. I grab my beige wedges before heading downstairs and finding Mom in the kitchen cooking. “Where are you going all dressed up?”
“I’m going to have dinner with Autumn,” I inform her. “By the way”—I kiss her cheek—“I started the dough for the donuts, so I’ll be up at around three to start frying them.”
“I’ll come and help you.” I shake my head as she says the words and I start to make my way to the door.
“I can nap when you leave,” she says.
“Don’t make me call Oliver,” I throw over my shoulder. “I’ll be back early.”
I opt again to walk to the bar instead of driving, missing the walks I’ve been doing these past couple of weeks. I get to the bar and see it’s not full at all, just a couple of tables lingering. I catch Autumn behind the bar. “Hey, what happened to everyone?”
“No tours today,” she explains, and I look at her confused. “We offer tours of the distillery,” she fills me in, “and usually, they always stay to drink and eat. But Monday is our off day, which means we have to depend on the locals. And, well”—she points at the tables—“that is what you get.”