Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“I know I don’t have to.” Buttoning up a crisp white shirt he’d grabbed from the closet, he crossed the room to drop a kiss on my head. “And that’s why I want to.”
“Church together. People will think we’re a couple,” I warned, trying to add a laugh but failing.
“We kind of are, right?” Worth quirked his lips as he scratched Buttercup’s ears. “I messed up on Friday when I joked with George that I’m not romantic. I should have said I’ve never been good at romance before you.”
“I could have done better than stomping off,” I admitted. I’d purposefully not brought up the matter all Saturday, but I did appreciate his apology.
“I don’t know how to make you the promises you deserve, but I’m also not ashamed to be part of a couple with you. If that’s what you want.”
“I want.” I tugged him closer for a real kiss, sweet and slow.
“Hey, now, don’t want to be late for church,” he yelped when I tried to pull him into the bed with me.
“Sudden craving for boiled percolator coffee?”
“Perish the thought.” He shuddered before straightening and snapping his fingers. “Come on, Buttercup.”
Bid for morning sex denied, I hurried through my shower and breakfast. We left Buttercup and Delilah sharing the couch again. Worth had bought Buttercup a couple of chew toys, but she seemed to prefer lazy lounging. When we’d taken her to the vet to rule out a microchip, they’d estimated she was three or four, which made sense since she had good energy without puppy silliness. But even without being rowdy, Buttercup finding friendship with my aloof cat was most unexpected.
As we entered the church, we didn’t get farther than the rotunda area before Ginny Davis stopped us with a near-maniacal grin.
“Sam! So good to see you, and look who you brought this week.” She beamed brightly at Worth, who suffered through the obligatory small talk of Ginny reminding him she’d been friendly with his mother and inquiring about his well-being before she turned her vulture-like attention back to me. “Did you think about the offer?”
“What offer?” Worth asked before I could reply.
“Some developer wants to buy up downtown.” I waved a hand. It wasn’t particularly nice of me, but I couldn’t help wishing Ginny would fall into the nearby circular fountain. “They tried to get the Lucky Penny before Monroe put his foot down and said he wouldn’t sell.”
“They want to buy the coffee house? Because you own the building?” Worth frowned, but his expression was more thoughtful than my own glower.
“They can keep on wanting because they’re not getting.”
“Your loss,” Ginny chirped. “It’s a mighty generous offer.”
“Some things are priceless.” I shot Worth a pointed look.
“And some things are practical.” He shrugged, clearly having missed my unspoken message entirely.
“I’ll just leave you my card.” Ginny offered us both a plastic smile. “Again.”
“Thanks.” I pocketed the card because pitching it in the fountain would be rude. Turning back to Worth as Ginny tottered away on her spiky heels, I lowered my voice but kept it firm. “I’m not selling. Ever.”
“You could get a different, cheaper location. Increased liquidity wouldn’t be a bad thing given your ongoing cash flow issues.” Worth sounded every inch the Ivy League MBA, and I made a rude noise.
“I’m not running a business. This isn’t a corporation.” Exhaling hard, I softened my tone. We were in a church, after all, and Worth was only trying to help. “This is about so much more than bottom lines.”
“I know.” Staying true to his earlier assertion about not caring what people thought, he put an arm around me. “And you do amazing work. The kids love you. And need you and the whole organization and its programs. But the work is you, not the location.”
“You’re right, but I don’t like it.” I huffed. “And we’re staying put.”
“Here’s to hoping the opening of the pup patio this coming week is a huge success.”
“We’re in the right place for hope.” Trying to recover my usual optimism, I grinned.
“I’d say a prayer business turns around if I thought the universe listened to me.”
“I don’t pray for particular outcomes.” Sobering my tone, I leaned into his embrace. “I pray for the strength to deal with whatever happens.”
“Oh.” Worth swallowed like he was thinking hard, but right then, Holden waved as he wheeled toward us.
“Looks like Sam finally dragged you here. About time.” He smiled warmly at us both. “Cal’s sitting with the choir today. I’m not supposed to know he’s doing a solo, so I can’t look nervous on his behalf. Come distract me and sit with me?”
“Sure.” We followed Holden to one of the accessible front rows with room for wheelchair seating. The pew was also placed with a good view of the sign language interpreter, so I wasn’t surprised when my mother slid in beside me a few minutes later with a little wave for the young female doing the interpreting. We had a group of paid certified interpreters that rotated, and they were often joined by high school and college students working their way toward certification.