Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I think making friends in my now permanent hometown is a no-brainer. “Sure! I love Ted’s.”
“Sweet. Parking can be a little iffy there on Fridays, so you might have to drive around for—”
“She won’t need to park. I’ll bring her,” Tyler declares.
Jana, Ben, and I all turn our attention to him. “You will?” I ask as my stomach does a loop-de-loop. Sheesh. I haven’t had this feeling since my junior high crush asked me to the movies to see Iron Man.
“I didn’t get a chance to mention this to you yet, but I live a few houses down from you,” Tyler says. “When Chief Perry retired, he moved to Arizona and put his place on the market. I took one look at that view and put in a bid. I bought some land to build a bigger house, but that’ll be a few years out, so for now, the old Perry place makes sense.”
Oh. Wow. The chief’s house is just five doors down from mine. That means Tyler and I are neighbors. Logically, I knew he lived somewhere nearby—almost all of the permanent residents live in one part of town—but I didn’t realize he was so close. If I wanted to, I could be at his house in ninety seconds. Less if I ran. Not that I’d do that, since it would be super unprofessional. Also, I’m not a runner. Unless there’s chocolate. For chocolate, I’d run. Although, if Tyler weren’t my boss… yeah. I’d run. Long distance, even.
Get it together. Get it together. Don’t visualize running to your hot boss’s house, dummy.
“Are you, uh… are you sure?” I ask—or more accurately, squeak. “I can drive myself; it’s not a problem.”
“Yeah, babe, I’m sure. Eight thirty on Friday good for you?”
I suck in a breath at his use of the word babe. Why is that so damn hot?
“Mm-hm. That’s fine.”
“Then it’s a plan,” he says, like it’s written in stone.
“I’ll be there too. I can tell you’re all worried—even though not one of you has so much as looked at me—that I might stay home and be lonely,” Ben says dryly.
When Tyler throws back his head and laughs, my nipple situation gets even more intense. I wonder if it will continue like this or if when I get used to being around him, I’ll react less.
Somehow, I doubt it.
CHAPTER FIVE
____________________________________
ASHLEY
MY FIRST DAY of work was good. Great, even. I feel light and almost giddy. If today was an indicator of what’s to come, the manifesting books and the app are working. Humming to the Beach Boys song that’s stuck in my head, I change into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt before going into the kitchen to make something to eat. I’m just finishing an oh-so-exciting dinner consisting of a bowl of chicken and stars soup with some crackers when there’s a knock at the sliding door. Opening it, I see Millie on my back deck.
“I brought over some wine coolers,” she says, gesturing toward a four-pack of the fizzy beverage sitting on my picnic table. “Come on out and tell me all about your day while we watch the sunset.”
Looking back at the kitchen counter wistfully, I silently promise the container of powdered hot chocolate and pack of peanut butter cups sitting there that I’ll be back for them soon. Then I slide into my blue-and-white polka dotted flip-flops, open the sliding door all the way to let the cool breeze coming off the ocean in, and head outside to sit with Millie. The gentle sound of the water lapping against the shore is one of my favorite things in the world. We’re about twenty minutes away from sunset, and I can already tell it will be spectacular.
Taking a seat on the Adirondack chair next to Millie, I accept the wine cooler she holds out to me. I’ve never known anyone to drink these things but her. When I was a teenager, I wondered if she was single-handedly responsible for keeping the brand that makes them in business. It’s not like she drinks a ton, but everyone who knows her is well aware that Millie Andover’s drink of choice is a fuzzy-navel-flavored wine cooler. It’s her signature drink. Mine is hot chocolate with a crazy amount of whipped cream.
After twisting the lid off, I sink back into the chair, bend my knees, and settle my feet on the edge of the seat. Taking a sip of the sweet drink, I try not to wince as the flavor spreads across my tongue.
“Tell me everything,” Millie prods. “Did I do good?”
I chuckle as I take another small sip of the wine cooler and set it down. “You did better than good,” I assure her. “Everyone welcomed me warmly and I feel like I fit right in. Coming here and taking this job were the right decisions.”