Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Oh. Um. Nothing.” Her cheeks flushed.
Just like London, that was her tell. It was fitting since London pretty much looked like a younger version of our mother.
Dad flicked his gaze between my mom and me. “Elizabeth?”
Mom grimaced.
I polished off my apple juice as Mom shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“You haven’t asked him yet, have you?” Dad’s brows lifted toward the ceiling.
“He’s only been home eighteen hours, Howie. When did you want me to ask him? While he was sleeping? Or running?” She stood quickly and grabbed our empty plates, heading for the sink.
“Mom?” I cleared the rest of the table, taking everything to the counter. I knew better than to ask her to do dishes. Even when she let me, she’d just rearrange the dishwasher after I was done.
“It’s almost one,” she muttered, glancing out the window toward the driveway. “Amy and I are going to run over to Julie’s to finish up my alterations for next week.”
“And somehow seeing your best friend has you stressed?” I leaned back against the counter as she finished loading the dishwasher.
“You may as well ask him,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair and watching us like we were currently the best show going.
Mom sighed.
“Just ask me,” I said softly. “You know I’ll give you whatever you need.” Money, time, effort—Mom could have whatever she wanted when it came to me. She and London were the only women who could say that.
She dragged her blue eyes to mine. “You don’t happen to have a date for London’s wedding do you?”
I blinked, then glanced at Dad. Of course I didn’t have a date. I’d only been in town since yesterday, and even though Rose Howell and I usually had a thing going when I came to town, we weren’t exactly an item…just a convenience.
Dad shook his head quickly, giving me the correct answer.
“Nope,” I said. “No date.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” She visibly relaxed, tension oozing out of her shoulders. “It’s just that Amy has had the hardest time—”
“You want me to take Mrs. Dunham?” My eyes flew wide. Mom’s best friend was her age—not that I was against older women, but I wasn’t really looking for love at bridge club…or looking for love anywhere.
“What? Amy?” Mom busted out a laugh that doubled her over. “No!”
She kept laughing.
Dad cracked a grin, but gave me a look that told me there was more to come.
I smiled. It was hard not to when Mom was laughing. She was contagious.
“She’s going to die when she hears you thought she needed—” She started laughing again, then finally finished, wiping her eyes as she stood to her full five-foot-nothing height. Every inch of my six-foot-five had come from my dad. “Not Amy,” she repeated. “It’s Ryleigh who’s giving her mom a run for her money.”
“Ryleigh?” My brow puckered. “That’s the youngest daughter, right?” I grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the fridge.
Mom nodded. “She’s a year younger than London, and Caz, I tell you, she’s a show-stopper.” She did everything but clap her hands together.
“Ryleigh,” I muttered, thinking back. “I don’t think I’ve seen her since she was twelve.” I’d been eighteen, desperate to leave for college in the fall, and Ryleigh Dunham had dogged my every step. The awkward little urchin with the red curls and overalls had been the reason I’d never scored with Shelby Miller. The only time I’d gotten close, she and London had zip-lined into the barn’s hayloft, sending a shirtless Shelby into a frenzy over her clothes.
“Well, she’s twenty-two now, and she’s just had the most horrible breakup. I mean horrible. And Amy can’t go anywhere without someone sticking their nose in it.” She shook her head.
“She could probably leave Cherry Creek,” I muttered, then flashed a fake smile and threw up my hands when Mom glared at me. “Just joking!” It was true, though. Cherry Creek was its own little universe. The entire town could fit into Reaper Arena a few times over, and yet it somehow felt smaller than the ice hall that had become my second home.
Everyone knew everyone’s business here.
Mom swatted at my shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll take her to London’s wedding.”
“Whatever you want, Mom.” How bad could one night with an awkward tomboy be? If it relieved some of Mom’s stress about the wedding, then it was worth it.
“Watch what you’re offering, Caz.” He laughed.
“You mean it?” Mom’s eyes danced.
“I mean it.” I took my ball cap from where I’d hung it on the back of the chair, and put it on, turning it backward.
“Oh good, because, you know the wedding isn’t just a day—”
“It isn’t?” My hands froze on my hat.
“Oh no! You know your sister had to shove everything into this next week. Their shower is co-ed. Have you ever heard of doing a co-ed bridal shower?”