Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Well, I graduated,” I say as I sit down. “I don’t need to go back to California any time soon.”
“Yeah, well, I figured you got your degree because you have bigger ambitions than staying in a little place like Home.”
I hold my tongue. There’s a knee-jerk reaction I suppress at the idea that maybe I think myself bigger than my hometown. But Lemon knows better. There was no any malice in her words. As the only two girls of the Rough brood, we’ve talked a lot about our dreams over the years, and mine were always uncertain. I was always wondering if there’s more out there.
And I guess when I headed off to college, a lot of my family thought I may have become certain.
“I don’t know, Lemon. I need to rest my brain, take in a bit of Mom’s home cooking, and just enjoy myself for a bit.”
She laughs. “After you went off and vacationed in Paris?”
“You know that there’s few more stressful things than a vacation, right? Although part of that time was spent shadowing a French designer who ended up being disappointingly haughty.”
“I guess you’re right. There really isn’t much that beats coming back here and being with family, and that’s not even counting how much it’s grown recently.”
Prairie, Meadow, Anchor, Merit, Abby, and Tallie are all new additions, along with the kids. All of them are now my kin and I know almost nothing about any of them. It’s a bit daunting to say the least.
The doorbell rings. Reuben, one of my brothers, gets up. “That’s for me. We got one more guest at dinner tonight.”
“Isn’t this supposed to be Fig’s homecoming dinner?” Mac says.
“Relax, I cleared it with the folks. And I don’t think Fig minds sharing the love. Do you, Fig?”
I shrug. I’m already surrounded by lots of almost-strangers, so what's one more? “Go right ahead.”
Reuben goes to answer the door. I hear some mumblings of, “Hey man, how are you doing? Good to have you back.” Normal guy chat.
I’m thinking nothing of this visitor until he walks into the dining room, and I look up at him. Tight jeans and a sweater stretched over a muscular form. I look to his face and stare at him with awe. A clean-shaven stone-cut jaw, looking like the right mix of action hero and male model.
“This is my best friend from high school, Hank Black. You remember him, don’t you, Fig?”
His eyes meet mine.
Oh, yes. I remember Hank Black.
I remember him too damn well.
2
HANK
Fig Rough was the cutest thing at Home High. She blossomed into a woman before my eyes, and really came out of her shell over the course of her first year there.
She was always a smart type, and was the kind of person who got along with both the jocks and the nerds.
I would have asked her out in a second back in the day, but there was one thing stopping me.
She was a sophomore, and I was a senior.
And I always thought that was kind of skeevy. I gave the other seniors shit for dating someone so much younger than them, but I guess when I saw Fig I understood just a little bit.
But I held to my principles. She was three years younger than me, and the gulf between fifteen and eighteen is vast. I was ashamed of my crush, so much so that I never told anyone about it.
I didn’t expect to see her here today. The last time Reuben mentioned her, she was off at college, preparing for a big, exciting life in fashion design, and I just assumed a girl like her could have any guy she wanted anyway. The ship had sailed, and I didn’t expect to see her again.
Now?
I’m literally sitting across from my longtime crush.
“You alright there, Hank?” Reuben asks, slapping me on the back.
“Yeah, man, I’m fine.”
I don’t know how true that statement is. I’m trying not to stare, but Fig is fucking hot. More than she was in high school. She’s a bit more seasoned now, and more fashionable too. I guess that’s to be expected with a literal degree in fashion.
She has the cutest pair of glasses on, and I’m trying my damnedest not to even look at the rest of her below the neck. Still, I can’t help noticing her curves, and the swell of her breasts when she inhales. Something about her figure suggests wide, sexy hips, even looking at her from the waist up.
Fig’s as flustered as I am, distracted and not really paying attention to anyone else at the table.
“So what brings you to dinner tonight, Hank?” the Rough patriarch asks me, stroking his beard.
“Uh, just transferred back into Home. Spent a few years over in Spokane.”
“Pardon an old man’s memory, but it’s hard to keep track of all my children’s friends. What is it that you do again?”