Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Seeley, you remember Uncle Will. And this is Jade,” I said.
“Hey, Jade. I would invite you to ride with us, but we’re barely gonna fit the three of us and the chair,” he said, taking charge and hauling my uncle out of the chair to push him into the seat, knowing he would get less lip about it than I would.
“I wouldn’t want to get in the way,” Jade insisted as Seeley grabbed the chair and walked around the car to fold it up and finagle it into the trunk. “William, try to be a good patient,” she said, giving him a smile. “You might even get a sticker if you behave,” she added, getting another lip twitch out of him.
“Doll, I’m sorry we got—“
“Don’t apologize,” she cut me off as I closed my uncle’s door so he wasn’t listening to us. “You can’t control an emergency. Go take care of your uncle. I need to get some work done on Mrs. Jackson’s canvases anyway. But thanks for breakfast. That was much needed today,” she added, reaching out to grab my wrist for just a second.
The look in her eye said she wanted it to be more than just a touch.
But my uncle and Seeley were waiting.
“Text me,” I said. “That way, I can give you an update.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “Now go. He’s looking really pale.”
With that, I climbed in behind Seeley into the minuscule backseat, and we were pulling away from the curb.
I turned back to watch as Jade seemed to almost run back into the building.
“Wouldn’t have fucking cut my hand if you didn’t bring those fucking bagels,” Uncle Will grumbled in the front seat.
Seeley rolled his eyes at me in the rearview.
“Wouldn’t have fucking cut your hand if you had used a bread knife to cut the bagel,” I shot back, patience razor-thin.
For once, though, my uncle had nothing to snap back at me with.
So we drove in stony silence to the clinic as I wished to hell I hadn’t dropped off the damn bagels.
If not for that, I might still be in Jade’s apartment.
Clothes might already be scattered on the floor.
Hands and lips and tongues might be exploring.
I sighed, shaking off those thoughts.
I’d get another chance.
I hoped.
CHAPTER TEN
Jade
As horrible as it was to think, I was kind of glad that William had interrupted us.
I wasn’t happy he was hurt, of course. It was just that I was seconds away from spilling my guts to Levee.
I’d been lulled to confession by his quiet confidence, his ease, and, well, I won’t lie about this… his big, strong, manliness.
I was as feminist as you could get. But even strong, independent women sometimes wanted someone physically stronger to lean on. Or, you know, hide behind.
The thing was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to unload all of that crap onto Levee. A man who I really wanted to not scare away. And, let’s face it, a woman hyperventilating and crying about a missing neighbor and the men who she suspected killed him might just be a little too much for our budding… whatever it was.
I needed some time alone to get my emotions in check. The lack of sleep was making me unusually out of control of myself. So I dragged myself up to my apartment, locked myself in my bedroom, and took a much-needed nap.
Was it fraught with being chased by shadowy figures through an unknown building? Sure. But it was still sleep.
And as I dragged myself back out a few hours later, all was quiet across the hallway, save from the TV playing some sports game. I took that to mean William had been all patched up and that Levee had likely left with his friend Seeley.
It was for the best, I tried to remind myself several times that day as I fiddled with my portrait for Mrs. Jackson.
But I was too distracted, having to keep fixing things I was messing up. I knew if I didn’t step away from it, I would do something that would screw it up enough that I would want to start over. And I was on a deadline, as the portraits were going to be a gift for Mr. Jackson on his upcoming birthday.
Rolling some of the tension out of my shoulders, I made my way toward the door, grabbing my purse and keys, then moving across the hall to knock on William’s door.
There was no answer so I made my way downstairs, intent on going to the market, maybe buying some ingredients to make something warm and comforting, despite the heat. There was nothing like a hearty soup or stew to comfort you from the inside out. Or, at least, that was what my mom had always insisted. I was ready to test that theory out.
I was one foot out of the building when I saw someone who gave me an idea.