Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“It’s good,” I admit. “I was thinking yesterday after leaving here,” I tell him, leaning to put my hands on my knees, “what if we added apple to one of our blends?” This right here is what I’ve always wanted to do. Create different blends, play around with the blends we have, and add certain things to the house blend that is the staple for us. Last year, I added lemon to a batch, and it turned out amazing. This year, I was trying to think of something else to do, and after eating the apple pie, it was as if a light bulb went off in my head.
He nods. “It would have to be the right amount, not overpowering.”
“Yeah, I think so too. I’m going to test a few things in the next couple of weeks.”
“I wish I could come there.” He looks out into the distance. “Staying home is killing me faster than this cancer inside me.”
“Dad,” I hiss, “can we not be so morbid? It’s a nice day. The sun is shining.”
“How’s your new neighbor?” he asks me of Harmony. When I arrived yesterday, I told him my neighbor baked me a pie but didn’t mention why. I also didn’t say who it was because he would probably worry about that shit.
“She’s good.” The last thing we need is another war with the Cartwrights, and with the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before Winston sets his sights on me. I know I should tell him and Autumn about what has been happening so we can prepare ourselves, but something stops me from doing it. What? I have no idea.
“Is she pretty?” He grins when he asks me this, and I just smirk and shake my head. “She isn’t pretty?”
“I don’t know,” I lie. “I didn’t really look at her like that.” Yes, I did, my head screams. She’s got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, and her ass is fire. She also has the biggest piece of shit for a husband, I remind myself.
“You need to find someone and settle down,” he says. I get up, not really in the mood for this. “I’m not kidding. You need someone to—”
“I think I have it covered,” I assure him, grabbing the plate.
“I’m not talking about keeping your bed warm.”
“Jesus, Dad,” I snort.
“I’m talking about someone to share your life with.” He takes a deep breath. “I want to know that if anything happens to me, you’ll have someone to hold your hand.”
“I’ll put this on a plate inside and wash this to return it to”—I almost say her name but stop myself—“my neighbor.”
“Yeah, you do that, and ask her to make me another one.”
I gasp. “I’m not going to ask her to make you another pie, Dad.”
“Why?” he asks. “Tell her I’m dying.”
“Dad,” I snap.
“What?” He lifts his hands. “If I can’t use this excuse now, when am I going to use it?” I shake my head because how do you argue with that? “Fine,” he huffs, “tell her I’ll pay her to make me one.”
“I’m not going to tell her anything.” I walk to the door. “I’ll get you one from the bakery.”
“It’s not as good. This one I think had a hint of caramel.”
“I’ll tell her you enjoyed it,” I finally say, “and if she bakes me another one, you can have it.”
“Fine, or I can return the plate myself and charm her.”
I walk into the house before he comes up with another plan to get some more pie. I walk to the kitchen where I grew up, placing the last piece of pie on a plate before washing her dish. The whole time, I thought of my father’s question about whether she is pretty. There is no mistake about it, Harmony Cartwright is one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen. She is also so off-limits. We aren’t in the same universe.
CHAPTER 6
Harmony
I grab the cup of coffee in my hand, taking a sip as the alarm rings from the phone in front of me. I turn it off and see it’s just a little after seven thirty. I take a deep breath, getting up from the chair at the table before going to the steps. I slowly walk up them until I get to the primary bedroom Wyatt has been sleeping in. Over the past week, I’ve unloaded my stuff in the second bedroom that has a twin bed. I didn’t really care how big the bed was as long as I didn’t have to put up with Winston for the rest of my life. Fuck, I’d sleep on the floor if I had to.
I walk to the side of the bed he sleeps on and sit down, my hand coming out to brush his hair away from his forehead. The tiny little freckles on his nose only come out during the summer months when he’s in the sun. His long lashes lie against his cheeks as he sleeps. If Winston did anything good in his life, it was giving me Wyatt, but that was about it.