Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“He has about a million references that argue otherwise,” I muttered. “The only times I’ve ever heard…North turn a woman down were because he picked someone prettier out of the lineup. I have four years of experience to back that up.” I shook my head. “I did something wrong on that plane, and now he doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s that simple.”
“Honey, that man is sitting in your mom’s kitchen right now. If he didn’t want anything to do with you, he would have hauled you back to Seattle and gone on his merry way.” She lifted her eyebrows at me, like she was waiting for me to see her point.
Which I did.
“How the hell did I even get myself into this situation?” I was always controlled, always colored within the lines, always followed the rules.
“He’s fine as hell. If I wasn’t married to Jeremiah…” She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.
“So, what do I do? Just endure the awkward? Every time I try to bring it up, he leaves the room. Clearly, it’s not a discussion he wants to have.” I rubbed my temples.
“I have no clue,” she answered with a grimace. “It honestly would have been an easier answer if you’d just said it burned when you peed. Boys suck.”
“Amen. And you can’t say anything. Promise.” I stared her down.
“Me?” She scoffed. “Hey, did I tell you who showed up at the clinic with chlamydia and no wedding ring?” Her eyes widened.
“What? No! Who?”
“Exactly.” Her face deadpanned.
“Point taken,” I muttered. “Thanks for listening, especially since you never ask questions like that about my brother.” My whole body shuddered in revulsion. Having my best friend marry my brother was pretty cool until I thought about the whole sleeping together part—which was why I tried not to.
We left the laundry room and found Nixon and Mom spreading out the freshly delivered boxes of pizza on the kitchen counter. He looked so…domestic, even with the tattoos spreading from under his collar and wrists.
“You two about done in there?” Mom asked over her shoulder.
“We are!” Naomi answered with a grin as the side door flew open.
“I win!” Ashley scurried in with a mile-wide grin, throwing her hands into the air, as Levi scrambled after her. “Zoe! You’re here!”
“Oomph!” I grunted as she hit me with the full force of her hug. “Ashley, you’re so tall! What are you now? A senior?” I ruffled her thick blond curls and sighed with a healthy dose of hair envy.
“Ha! I’m in third grade!”
“Well, you’ve grown at least a foot since I saw you last. Are you hungry?”
“Yes!” She bounced on her toes.
“Zoe. Zoe. Zoe. Zoe,” Levi chanted at my feet, his arms raised.
“Levi, Levi, Levi, Levi,” I replied with a smile, hefting him up to my hip. This right here was the benefit of Nixon not hauling me back to Seattle and going on his merry way, as Naomi had put it. I guided Ashley toward the counter, where Nixon was opening the line of boxes. “Ashley, this is my friend, Nixon. He’s a rock star.”
Her eyes widened. “Like…a real one?”
“Depends on your definition of real.” Nixon’s shoulders shook slightly as he pivoted, tossing a smile at the little girl. That smile froze, then disappeared entirely as he stared down at her.
He looked…stricken.
“He’s real enough,” I promised, ushering her to the first pizza on the counter and turning her over to Mom. “Take Levi?” I asked Naomi.
“Of course.” She took her son and smacked a kiss on his cheek.
Nixon stood off to the side, watching Mom help Ashley with her pizza.
“You okay?” I asked him quietly.
“Fine.” The answer was gruff as he jerked his gaze to the wall behind my head.
“Are you sure?” Something was off. Way off.
“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, just quiet enough that my family didn’t hear him.
“Four words,” I muttered. “Okay, then. Pizza?” Keep it professional. I needed my lines back. My borders. My defenses. The problem was that I didn’t want them—not when it came to Nixon. More specifically, I didn’t want to need them.
He nodded once, and we made our way through the kitchen-counter buffet. I snagged a piece of cheese and one with ham and pineapple.
“Admit it, Zoe, you miss Steve’s, don’t you?” Jeremiah asked with a hip check. “You might have all the pizza you want up there in Seattle, but it’s not Steve’s.”
“It’s not Steve’s,” I admitted. “You know I only come back for the pizza, right? You’re just a bonus.”
Jeremiah took two pieces of sausage ahead of me. “Yeah, why do you think I married your best friend. It was the only way I was guaranteed to get to see you.”
“Whatever.” I hip-checked him back, then headed for the table, Nixon coming up beside me.
He wasn’t just tense. He was guarded.