Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“He was being pushy about me going to the company Christmas party with him.”
“As a fuckin’ date?”
“Yeah, it was up there with the worst conversations of my life. He even asked me at the same time he poked at my weight.” As soon as the words slip off my tongue, I want to snatch them back. Why did I add all that? A simple yeah would have been satisfactory. Knox’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white.
“That—”
“I mean, I’m not sure if he was insulting me or complimenting me.” I cut him off.
“Don’t defend him.” He chews the words and spits them out like broken glass.
“Oh, sugar cookies!” It’s my Grams’ favorite curse, and here I am using it. I need to stop speaking, because yes, I did in a way defend my boss, but that wasn’t what I was trying to do. I just didn’t want to have some awkward conversation about my weight with Knox. I don’t need empty compliments. In fact, I don’t want to talk about my body at all with Knox, period. The man has always been ripped. He might not be playing sports like he did back in high school, but it’s clear he’s still hitting the gym. I can see that even with his coat on.
“I’ll handle it,” he mutters, the car growing quiet for the first time since I’d gotten in.
“I can handle myself just fine.” I kick my chin up, though I fail to mention that I handled it by running away. Back home. Besides, how the heck is he going to handle it? What does that even mean? I don’t bother to ask, not wanting to go back to the conversation. It's better to leave it be.
“I’m sorry,” he says when we finally hit the giant welcome sign to Reindeer Valley. It’s lit up like a Christmas tree. It always is no matter what time of year. He releases his death grip on the steering wheel to place one of his hands on top of mine, stopping me from wringing them together. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s fine really.” I can’t decide if I should pull my hands away, shove his hand off, or just stare down at where he’s touching me.
“It’s not, but it will be.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to meet mine.
For a second I’m transported back to my freshman year of high school. It was the first time I’d really noticed Knox. I’d run right into him in the hallway. I’d almost busted my booty on my first day, but he’d caught me and saved me from the embarrassment. Not only had he caught me, but he’d pulled me tight against him. Touching him like that—being held by him—gave me so many feelings I’d never had before. Like it short-circuited my brain.
Sometimes, though, I think I've made that moment up in my head. I recall his hold tightening on me as he stared into my eyes for a very long moment before his gaze dropped to my mouth. I’d been so sure he was going to kiss me.
Until Nora Mcguire butted her fake nose into our business. She of course took a shot at me and had poked at my weight. She’d been a senior at the time and was in love with Knox. Like every girl in town with eyes. I haven’t thought about Nora in years. Ugh. I can’t wait to run into her ass, too.
A weird sense of loss fills me when he puts his attention back on the road, but he leaves his hand over mine. I slowly pull my fingers from his. He shoots me a sideways look but lets his palm fall to my thigh. Well, I didn’t think that through, did I? My cheeks heat, and I can’t help but feel the warmth from his hand seeping through my leggings.
“Can you take me straight to the bakery?” I ask when he pulls onto Main Street. “I think Grams is going to need me to jump in to help right away.”
“I can take you anywhere you want.”
I actually don’t think there is anywhere else in the world I’d rather be right now than here. But I don’t say that. I shouldn't even be thinking about it. I should be smacking the hand that is ever-so-slightly kneading my thigh.
In a desperate attempt to distract myself from this quandary, I move on to one of my favorite subjects—food. “I'm so going to need to go to the Snowrise Diner at some point. I need me some truffle cheese fries.”
“You can’t get those in the big city?”
“I can, but there is something about that fake truffle oil she puts in the cheese sauce you dip them in that no one else can beat,” I admit with a laugh. I think more than anything, whenever I tried to order truffle fries anywhere else, it only made me homesick.