Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
The thought shouldn’t be scarier than the thought of getting pregnant with her first child, but it was. So she concentrated on running her dough through the pasta machine and did her best not to think of the future. Until the background check came back, she had no idea if it was safe to cohabitate with Noah anyway, so there was no reason to put any more stress on her already stressed out brain.
Seriously? If you think that background check is going to prove Noah is anything but a model citizen, you’re even crazier than you look.
“And you look pretty crazy,” she muttered to her reflection in the microwave as she finished with the noodles and tossed all the other ingredients into the crockpot to simmer for an hour.
She’d thrown on fresh workout clothes after her shower—not wanting to worry about getting flour all over the dress she planned to wear tonight—paired with her “Shitake Happens” apron and a pair of blue socks with treads on the bottom that kept her from slipping on the polished wooden floor. She looked like a homeless woman who had been raiding the donation bin, and she only had another twenty minutes before Noah was due to arrive.
Tossing her apron on the hook near the stove, she dashed up the stairs to her childhood bedroom—she wasn’t ready to move into her mom and dad’s old room on the ground floor yet—and set about transforming into a butterfly. It took a little longer than usual to get her eyeliner straight, but when she descended the stairs thirty minutes later, there was still no sign of Noah. She was getting ready to call him to see if he needed directions after all when she caught a creaking sound coming from the direction of the porch.
She peered out the window above the sink to see Noah kneeling next to a metal chair, screwing the top to the base.
“What have you done?” she asked, heart leaping when he turned to smile at her.
“You said you didn’t have patio furniture,” he said. “I figured it would be a good housewarming present. Do you like?”
“I love!” She hurried through the door out onto the porch, taking in the metal table with the latticework on the top and four rocker chairs. “But you shouldn’t have done this. It’s too much.”
“It’s just enough.” He finished with the last chair and slid it into place. “And as much as I love eating on the ground, I felt like I needed a seat tonight. I think I might have pulled something in my hamstring this afternoon. I’m not used to going from zero to a mad sprint. I usually warm up a little first.”
She smiled guiltily. “Sorry about that. When it comes to racing, I have no common sense. I think about how to win and consider the other factors never.”
“I could tell. You’ve got a competitive streak.”
“Guilty,” she said, watching as he wiped his hands on his thighs, drawing her attention to how delicious he looked in faded blue jeans and a white polo that brought out the golden color of his skin. The man was hot as hell even covered in mud, but right now he was flat out stunning. He looked good enough to eat, and she had a feeling noodles wouldn’t be the only thing she’d be devouring before the night was through.
The thought made a ribbon of heat thread through her core.
“We can skip the walk around the property if you want,” she said. “If you’re suffering.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s just a little pulled muscle. I want the full tour.” He turned, gazing out over the fields stretching away from the house. “This is a beautiful place. Have you parents always lived here?”
She nodded as she led the way down the steps into the back yard. “Ever since they were married. They met while they were both getting their agriculture degrees at the university and moved back here to take over the farm when they graduated. My dad’s parents had died a few years before and left the place to him. It’s been in the family for generations.”
“That must be nice,” he said, pulling in a deep breath. “To have such a sense of place. My parents moved around a lot when I was a kid. Always in the Bay Area, but often enough that no one house or neighborhood ever felt completely like home.”
“Honestly, Lonesome Point never felt like home when I was younger.” She started across the grass, down the tree-lined path leading between the fields. “I think I was born itching to get out of this town.”
He frowned. “Really? Why?”
She shrugged. “It was so small, and I thought I needed a bigger sandbox to be happy. But as time passed I realized that there was something to be said for a place where people know your name, your history. It’s comforting to be part of something bigger than yourself, even if it’s just a little corner of Texas. And the people here are some of the nicest in the world.”