Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
She slurps a big spoonful of pho. “Mama Tran’s recipe?”
“Mama Tran?” I ask.
“Aiko’s mother,” Mona answers. “She makes the best pho I’ve ever tasted. By now, Ezra’s is a close second.”
The rich flavors all of a sudden rot in my mouth. The woman he was speaking Vietnamese with. She’s practically his mother-in-law. When I glance up, Ezra is watching. He knows me too well. I try to force a smile, but at every turn I’m reminded how deep his ties with Aiko go and how disruptive pursuing a relationship with me so soon may be.
I stand and pick up my bowl, only half the soup eaten, and walk into the kitchen. Dumping the rest down the garbage disposal, I lean against the counter and look around. Photos of the three of them are pinned to the refrigerator. Reminders are written on the chalkboard for Noah, half in English, half in Vietnamese. A decorative mug on a shelf reads “Best Mom Ever.”
I look up and Ezra’s standing there.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice low, private.
I’m captivated by the concern, by the emotion on his handsome face. Forget Mona. Who cares about Mama Tran’s pho recipe, and fuck that mug. Ezra’s mine. I’m his, and no one’s going to make me feel bad about it. I tip up onto my toes, weave my fingers into his hair and bring his head down for a kiss.
“Oh, good grief,” Mona says from behind us. “Am I gonna have to deal with this every time I enter a room from now on?”
“Yes,” Ezra says against my lips. “If I have my way.”
“It’s my way, too,” I whisper to him.
“All this smooching,” Mona says, rinsing out her bowl and loading it into the dishwasher. “You’ve come a long way since Jeremy. Wasn’t that the guy who was your first kiss at our middle school dance?”
“I was her first kiss,” Ezra says, pride in the smile he aims at our friend. “Shows how much you know.”
Mona’s mouth drops open. “You two turds!”
We all laugh, and my phone rings. Piers.
“I need to take that,” I say, wiggling out of Ezra’s grip. “Hey, Piers. Thank you again for all you did today. I won’t forget it.”
“Oh, yeah.” He clears his throat. “That. Just doing my job. There’s some, uh, new developments.”
I frown. “It was good intel, right? Colson’s company—”
“Oh, yeah. The intel was accurate. I actually have more on him where that came from we can use when the time is right. No, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.”
I glance over at Ezra, who I can tell is barely listening to Mona. He keeps looking over at me, every glance a simmering flame I can’t wait to turn up all the way once Mona leaves.
“Maybe we can talk about it Monday,” I say, my eyes locking with Ezra’s in an unspoken, but absolutely clear message. “I think I’m busy tonight.”
Ezra nods in decisive agreement.
“Okay,” Piers says. “But I think you’ll want to hear what else I’ve learned.”
I force myself to focus, dragging my gaze from Ezra’s tall frame. “More dirt?”
“Uh, yeah. You could say that. It’s…well, it’s dirt, yes.”
“You can give me all you got on Colson on Monday, Piers.”
“It’s not dirt on Colson.”
“Then who’s the dirt on?”
“Your father,” Piers says, drawing an audible breath. “The dirt’s on your dad.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ezra
“You still mad at me?”
I force myself to focus on Mona. Through my kitchen window, I can see Kimba sitting on the trampoline in the backyard. She’s been on the phone for twenty minutes, and based on her expression, it’s not good news.
“Huh?” I ask. “Mad at you for what?”
“Busting up in here when you obviously wanted some time alone with Kimba.”
“I always want to be alone with her,” I say absently. “I’ve had to get used to sharing, though I’m still not very good at it.”
“I don’t mean to beat a dying horse,” Mona says, sipping the last of her beer, “but this won’t be as easy as you think. You’ll be asking Noah to adjust to not only the fact that you’re no longer with his mother, but that you’re now with someone else.”
“We don’t have to roll everything out at once. If Noah’s mature enough to understand why we never married, he’s certainly mature enough to understand that we never will. We’ll still be a family. It’ll just look different.”
“And you hope Kimba will be part of this new family you’re dreaming of?” Mona snorts. “Based on what I’ve seen of Kimba, a white picket fence might feel like a cage. She’s gunning for the nation’s next hottest campaign, and she’s coming off the last one. Take what you can get, but don’t expect everything from her, okay?”
I’m still turning her words over in my head, figuring out what’s true and what I can “settle” for from Kimba, when Mona yawns.