Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
She placed the platter on the stovetop, then took a bite of the shrimp before pulling out a plate for Matt.
“Hmm.” She furrowed her brow at Austin in that way people did when they were serious about the flavors in their mouth. “Wow. That does boost the flavor. Yum. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.”
“I’ll just get these toasted,” Austin said, adjusting the oven settings to broil and slipping in the bread.
“I think you’re making her nervous,” I told him as Jimmy hopped off the stool.
“It’s not his fault,” Jimmy said, his cheeks puffed out with food.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I admonished him automatically.
“Sorry,” he mumbled before chewing and swallowing. “It’s just Dad and his protocols. You know. He doesn’t like when things don’t go according to plan. He gets all riled up. She’s pretty jumpy about it. More so than you used to be.”
He pulled a plate from the cupboard and started filling it quickly.
“What are you doing?” I asked, sticking my hand in front of the charcuterie board.
He pushed my hand away. “Making Mr. Tom a plate. I think he’d starve out there if I didn’t feed him.”
“No, he’d just turn to stone until you needed him. For some reason I don’t quite understand, gargoyles don’t need to eat, drink, or use the toilet when they’re in stone form. They can exist that way for years, I was told.”
Jimmy paused in what he was doing and then looked down at the plate. “Oh. Should I not take him food anymore?”
“I’m sure he’s tickled that you think of him. He loves that sort of thing.”
Jimmy revved into action again, and I let him have more of the charcuterie board. He hurried across the kitchen and to the back sliding door, pushing it open and closing it behind him.
“You raised a good kid,” Austin told me, leaning against the counter. “He’s thoughtful and kind.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you. It was just the two of us a lot of the time, even when Matt was home. I’m sad that he doesn’t have a better relationship with his father, but I’m starting to think my being here is hurting rather than helping.”
He didn’t say anything, just crossed around behind me and massaged my shoulders before pulling me back against him.
“I don’t love the stress and anxiety you feel here,” he mused quietly, “but I’m glad I’m getting a fuller picture of where you came from.”
“I felt the same when I was at Kingsley’s.” I leaned my head against his chest. “But while I want to go to Kingsley’s a lot more often than we’ll be able to, I’m good with not coming back here for dinner.”
He laughed softly and leaned down to kiss my head. “I’m good with whatever you want to do. Except take a tour of your parents’ garage. There has to be a portal to another world in there somewhere, and your dad is guarding it with heaps and heaps of junk. That can be the only explanation for all that stuff. Have a look around and then—whoops, you’re in another dimension.”
I laughed as Jimmy jogged back in. He barely had time to sit down before Camila re-entered, her face ashen and her eyes tight. She looked on the verge of tears.
“Here.” I leaned forward, put two fingers on the base of her wine glass, and slid it forward a little. “This will help. Sorry about all this. I’ve had a few surprises from work and it’s affecting my schedule. I know how that throws him off. It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said distractedly, going to the fridge and taking out various containers. “I’ll just get dinner going now. Supper, I mean.”
“Here, let me—”
“No.” She held up her hand for Austin, her smile forced. “Thank you. I appreciate it, but it’s best if I just do it. If you guys wouldn’t mind, I’ll go ahead and seat you in the living room while I finish up, okay? Matt will meet you both there.”
She grabbed the wine bottle and the platter of shrimp and headed out in front of us. When my chest tightened this time, it wasn’t because of Matt. It was because of what Camila was obviously going through. It was because I knew firsthand what it felt like. Austin and I had ensured this dinner party was the worst Matt had hosted in a very long time, on par with the time he’d accidentally insulted his boss’s wife, made an ignorant joke to compensate, and prompted his guest of honor to leave early. None of that had been my fault, but it had been a helluva fallout to bear. Camila wouldn’t have a great night.
“Should I go back into the kitchen with you?” I asked her once she’d deposited the platter of shrimp and wine bottle. “Austin can stay out here, it’s fine.”