Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Before I could answer, Syd lowered her head and crumpled up the recipe, holding it tight in her fist.
“I am so mad at myself,” she whispered brokenly.
Fuck that.
I moved her over so I could grab a spoon off the counter, stepped in front of the stove, leaned over it with a hand bracing on the granite, and dug into the burnt potpie. I got to the meat and vegetables baked inside, heaped a spoonful of them, and ate a mouthful.
I’d eat this whole fucking thing if it made her feel better.
“What are you doing?” Syd questioned at my back, her voice growing closer.
“Eatin’.” I scooped out some more, shoved it in my mouth, and said around the steaming bite, “Not into wasting something my girl took time to make for me. I’m finishing this.”
“Brian, don’t.” She wrapped her hand around my bicep and pulled. “It’s ruined. Look at it.”
I kept eating.
She pulled harder, laughing when I went in for a fourth spoonful.
“That can’t be good. Seriously. Stop. Come on.”
I swallowed my bite and dug around for more.
“Not bad, actually,” I said. “Once you get past the bitter, it’s good. I like the chicken.” Lifting the spoon to my mouth, I turned my head and peered over my shoulder, letting her watch me eat it. “Hope you made something else for you ’cause I’m eatin’ this whole thing and not into sharing.”
Syd laughed harder, tossed the crumpled recipe onto the counter, reached up, and covered my mouth with her hand as her other wrapped around the front of my waist and pulled me back, forcing me to leave the spoon in the dish and turning me away from the stove.
“Okay okay okay. You’ve made your point.”
I moved willingly this time, waited until her hand slid off my mouth so I could speak, then asked, “And what’s that?”
“That you’re incredible.”
I blinked, chewed up the rest of my mouthful, then swallowed it down.
She slid her hands up my arms to my shoulders and linked them around my neck, pressed her front against mine, and tipped her head back.
“You make everything better,” she admitted softly, running her tongue over her lips to wet them while coming up on her toes and getting closer, further admitting, “You make my entire world better.”
My hands, fitted around her waist, tightened. Warmth spread out from the center of my chest.
I dropped my head until it touched hers and closed my eyes, holding her and breathing easy, concentrating on every part of Wild’s body I could feel against mine and the sound of her living—shallow heartbeats and expanding lungs pushing life through her.
Best thing I’d ever felt.
Best thing I’d ever held.
Best girl period.
“Like hearing you say that,” I murmured, opening my eyes.
Her hands gave my neck a squeeze.
“Like saying it,” she whispered back.
I smiled, then pulled away but only because a phone started ringing and it wasn’t mine.
Sliding her hands down and off me slowly, Syd spun around and picked up her phone off the counter by the sink, looked at the screen with a curious tilt of her head, mumbled something about not knowing the number, then pressed a button, answering it and bringing it to her ear.
“Hello?” Her shoulders pulled back and her eyes lit up with alertness. “Yes it is. Oh, yes, hi, how are you?”
I watched and listened with interest, noting the mood this call was putting my girl in and appreciating whoever it was on the other line.
Syd answered a few yes and no questions, speaking quickly the way she did when she was excited about something, while she moved along the counter back and forth, finger twirling a lock of red and anxious eyes capturing mine every few steps. This only lasted a couple of minutes, then she was telling the caller to hold on so she could open a drawer and pull out a piece of paper and a pen, telling them to continue when she was done and jotting something down while pinching the phone between her ear and shoulder.
“Great! No, that works perfect. I can absolutely do Monday morning,” she said, straightening and holding on to the phone again. “Yes. Okay. Thank you so much.” She disconnected the call, set the phone down, and turned her head, smiling big as she walked over. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“That was the job I applied for at NHC. The one that had been open for eight months and I thought for sure was filled already. They want me to interview for it.”
“That’s great. You can get back into x-ray.” I picked up the lock of hair she’d been twirling and I tucked it behind her ear, watching her mouth twist into a pout. “You want that, right?”
She hesitated, then answered, “Yeah, I do, I just …I love Whitecaps,” she replied, pressing her hands to my chest. “And I don’t want to short-staff Nate. He’s got so much going on. I’d like to keep working there if I can.” She looked down for a minute to think, sucked on her bottom lip, then looked back up to add, “Once I find out the hours on Monday, I can see if something is manageable.”