Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
“Ugh, I don’t know.” I turn around, my hands wrapping around the to-go cups of coffee, iced for me and hot for Genny.
“Sienna Ellison, who are you lying to more, me or yourself?” Here she goes, giving me cold hard truths again.
“Okay, fine, I know. Can I cop out and say I don’t want to talk about it?” Genevieve puts her brush down, wipes her hands on the apron she has wrapped around her waist, and gives me another look.
“Nothing will ever change if you don’t talk to him, you realize that, right?” I hand her the drink, then take a sip before diving into this particular subject. Genevieve is going to find her a man one day who will worship the absolute ground she walks on. He’ll help and guide her in a way that I’m unable to do. Plus, let’s be honest, I’m not going to push her when she’s at her most vulnerable. Right now, everything is falling into place. We both get to do what we love, and I’m not going to rock the boat ever when it comes to Genevieve. Not only is she my best friend, she’s also the master mind in the grand scheme of our business.
“Yes, happy helper person, I’m aware. He shortens my brain circuits whenever he’s within a five-foot radius. How am I supposed to talk to him when he’s busy making me drop my towel or doing something so damn sweet like helping me save a dog? To top it off, his stupid self takes his shirt off in front of me. Then I’m the dog in heat, and my tongue is too tangled and twisted I can’t tell if I’m coming or going.” Wow, I must have really needed to get that off my chest. Talk about a verbal word vomit. I follow it up by taking a healthy gulp of my caramel vanilla iced cold brew and allow Genevieve to digest all of that. Maybe she’ll do me a solid and pick me apart and guide me on where to go from here.
She crosses one arm over her chest, props her cup on her arm, and settles back in her chair. There’s never a rhyme or reason where Genny is concerned when it comes to painting. I’ve seen her paint every which way—in a chair, standing up, sitting on the ground, and even while she’s lying on her back with a piece of pottery held up above with one hand. The first time I walked in on that, I about shit my pants. The worry running so deep in my stomach over a piece of clay, but we had preorders for that set, and there were no extras.
“First of all, tell me about the dog, then we’ll dive deeper.” God, I love her. She must realize I’m still coming to terms with Trey.
“Bucket is his name.” Genevieve scrunches up her face in disgust. “Right, who would name their Border Collie that awful name? Anyways, Tallulah has to do the normal rigmarole. He’s malnourished, needs a bath, bloodwork, and an X-ray. Still, he’ll be held for three days no matter what. And get this: Tully asked if I’d be paying for the services since I told her I wanted him. Then she proceeded to tell me it’s a good thing because if Dean found out, I’d have competition. He’d pay, and the Border Collie who will not be named Bucket would go to them. We both know that won’t be happening and I told Tully that.” Tallulah smiled brightly, I returned the sentiment, and it was then I knew she wouldn’t tell Dean about the dog. Apparently, I’ve got a lot to say today. I'm usually quiet while Genny keeps the conversation going. Oh, how the tides have turned.
“Agreed, the name has got to go, and Tallulah totally knew what she was doing. I also can’t blame her. Imagine how many pets and animals they’d have with Dean and Mrs. Johnson combined.” I nod. They do run quite the menagerie of a farm. Obviously, the Ellisons are going to be one-upping them with the way animals of all kinds like to follow me wherever I go.
“Well, now I get to break the news to Amos. Adding another dog will give him full ammunition to tell me I should start an animal shelter.” I roll my eyes. Amos wouldn’t pass up a dog on the side of the road either. He just loves to give me shit.
“Maybe I could sweet-talk him,” Genny tosses out like it’s no big deal.
“Excuse me, ma’am, is there something I should know or we should talk about?” I smile big and proud, not caring what I look like. My best friend might have the hots for my brother.
“No, nothing like that. I mean, it was you who brought him up as an eligible bachelor.” Damn, she’s not wrong. There go my hopes and dreams of us being sisters, not that I had the thought before today, and she mentioned Amos.