Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“I already took a shower. I used soap and everything!”
She rolled her eyes. “You poured dish soap on an old blue tarp and then spent two hours sliding with your friends.”
Serious as a heart attack, he replied, “Yeah. That’s the same thing.”
Gwen barked a laugh as she moved my way. She placed a quick peck on my cheek before asking, “Dear Lord, what is it about boys that gives them such an aversion to personal hygiene?”
Nate glanced between the two of us, not a sliver of concern on his face, and with that, the ball of nerves I’d been battling loosened its grip.
“I don’t know, Gwen. Soap and water usually equals a shower in my book.” I winked at Nate.
His eyes lit up. “Yeah, Mom. See? Even Truett agrees with me!”
She shot me a scowl, but it held no heat. “Mmhm. You still have grass on your feet, kid.”
With a quick swipe of his hand, he brushed the blades onto the floor. “There. All gone.”
“Get in the shower, Nate.”
His head fell back. “But I wanna hang out with Truett!”
I was well aware that it was a ploy to get him out bathing, but it still struck a chord deep within me.
Gwen wasn’t wrong. I’d been a boy once too and showering sucked. But it didn’t have to be a total downer.
“Hey, what’s the fastest you’ve ever taken a shower?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
I leaned to the side and checked the oven timer. “Those wings have seven minutes left, and let me just tell you, they look incredible. Definitely not the kind you want to eat cold. Seven minutes probably isn’t enough time for you to take a shower and get dressed though.”
“Yeah, it is!” he exclaimed with a big goofy grin. “I can do it in three minutes!”
“No way?”
“You wanna time me?” he asked, discarding his gifts on the couch.
I scoffed. “Absolutely. How many times do people get to witness a world record in real life?”
“Yesss!” he hissed, and then right there beside me, in the middle of the living room, he got down on all fours in what I assumed was supposed to be a runner’s stance. “Okay, okay. I’m ready. Tell me when to go.”
I pressed a few buttons on my watch until the stopwatch popped up. “On your mark, get set…” I drew it out for a long second to rile him up. “Go!”
He took off like he’d been shot out of a cannon, nearly knocking over the lamp on the end table as he turned the corner.
As his feet pounded up the stairs, I looked back and found Gwen smiling at me.
“You do know he’s not going to wash anything while he’s in there.”
I hooked her around the shoulders and pulled her into my side. “He’s already soaped up. A rinse should still do the job.”
She laughed and pressed up onto her toes, brushing her lips with mine.
I kissed her back, long and deep, sliding my hand down to her ass while we didn’t have little eyes around. It was the wrong damn time to get myself worked up, so I begrudgingly released her mouth.
“Any issues picking him up?” I asked.
“Surprisingly, no. Jeff just stood at the door without uttering a word.”
“Smart man,” I mumbled.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but here’s to hoping whatever you said to him actually got through.”
“How’d his face look?”
She laughed and headed to the kitchen. “A little swelling, but there was no bruising or anything. I’m gonna go out on a very short limb and say it’s definitely not broken.”
I followed, muttering, “Shame.”
She pinned me with a glare, and I lifted my hands in surrender, pointing one finger up at the ceiling.
“He’s behind closed doors, which means we’re technically behind closed doors too. It’s the only time I’m allowed to talk shit, remember?”
“Nate didn’t mention it though. I figured Jeff would have gone home bragging about how he’d bested a maniac. He really likes to be the hero.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” I mumbled.
She shook her head and opened the oven. A whiff of orange came floating out as she peeked inside.
I sniffed the air. “I thought you said those were buffalo wings?”
“They are, but I decided to try my hand at spicy citrus wings too. I figured they’d be something fun I could do at The Rosewood for a trivia night or a happy hour special.”
I sat down on the stool closest to her. “If they taste half as good as they smell, you’ll have a line wrapped around the building.”
“Fingers crossed.” She turned to me and wedged her hips between my legs, resting her hands on my thighs. “It’s almost six. How are you feeling about not being in the booth?”
“Jesus, woman. Stop asking me that. We discussed this. I’m with you and I don’t hurt when I’m with you.” I leaned forward, pressing a reverent kiss to her lips. “Unless you make me spend another four hours installing ceiling fans that outweigh you. I’m sore as shit today.”