Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Serena should be home. And she actually knows Dex. Maybe she can give me some insight.
She answers on the first ring. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Your room’s still available if you want to return.” Ah, crap. Why’d I say that? I miss having her here, sure. But I want to be a supportive friend, not a desperate, clingy one.
“Aww, I miss you guys. How’s Libby?”
“Good,” I say absently, unsure of how to ask about Dex. I take a quick sip of my tea, searing my tongue.
“Sooooo,” Serena prompts, “what’s up?”
“Serena…” I pause for dramatic effect. “I think I’m in love.”
“What?” She gasps and giggles at the same time. “With who?”
“Grayson’s friend or brother or whatever. Dex.”
“Is he still mowing your lawn?”
“Sometimes. I think his friend is taking care of it now. Listen,” I demand. I need to tell her this before I lose my nerve. What if she repeats this to Grayson, and he tells Dex, and Dex thinks I’m a nutjob? No, Serena wouldn’t do that. She already holds plenty of my secrets.
“I’m listening,” Serena says so warmly, I can picture her eager-to-hear-my-story smile.
I relay the day’s events, leaving out the bit where I was so nervous riding on the back of Dex’s bike, I probably cracked a few of his ribs.
When she finishes laughing, she sighs. “Dex has always been really nice. I’m not surprised he helped you out.”
“I’m sure it’s just out of obligation to your fiancé, or ol’ man—whatever you call your Silver Wolf Murder Daddy.”
“Wow, what a mouthful. I can’t wait to tell Gray you called him my—”
“Don’t you dare tell him I said that.” My cheeks heat. “I’m kidding, anyway.”
“You’re on point, though,” she says with a gentle, dreamy laugh.
“Please don’t regale me with stories of all the sex you’re having.”
“I would never,” she gasps in mock indignation.
“Anyway, I invited Dex over for dinner Friday.” I plow ahead with my story, needing her thoughts on the situation. “But he was kind of weird about it.”
“Wait, what? You invited a guy to your house?” Her voice rises a few octaves to punctuate her surprise. “Why, Ms. Walker, that’s a violation of rule number three,” she teases.
“That rule is for dates I meet online. To avoid inviting strangers into my house. It’s a safety precaution,” I argue in my haughtiest tone. “Dex isn’t a stranger.”
“All right. That’s fair. Rule four is no cooking on a first date, though.”
“This isn’t a date,” I insist. “Trust me. Dex was very clear on that. I just wanted to thank him for being so nice to me today.”
“What do you mean he said it wasn’t a date?”
“At first, he made up some excuse about going on a trip? But then said he’d postpone it until my car is ready. That’s weird, though. Right?”
“I’m stumped. But Dex has always been a bit of an enigma.”
Enigma. That’s a good word for him. “Hey, enough about me and my lonely libido. How are you feeling?”
“My ankles are three times larger than they used to be, but it’s okay because I can’t even see my feet—”
“Then how do you know your ankles are bigger?”
“Shut up. I’m serious. I need this baby out of me now.” She sniffles. “I’ve been reduced to wearing Crocs.”
Do not laugh. To my beauty-blogger best friend, Crocs must be the ultimate style indignity. “Are they at least in a cute color?”
“They’re pink with a fuzzy lining.”
“Sounds cozy.” I sip my tea and try not to laugh.
She grumbles something I can’t make out.
“How’s Grayson?” I ask, to steer her away from the shoe crisis.
“Wonderful. Spoiling me rotten. He was up in Empire earlier, working at the gym one of the brothers owns. He stopped to get me my favorite butter pecan ice cream, though.”
“That’s sweet.”
“It was. Unfortunately, I wanted strawberry by the time he got home.”
I already know the answer, but I ask anyway. “Did he turn around and go get it?”
“He did. I don’t know where he gets his patience.”
“He loves you,” I say gently. “And you deserve to be loved like that, Serena.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. She clears her throat. “So, what are you going to wear for your non-date?”
“A dress?”
“You have the cutest dresses.” She sighs. “And you probably fit into all of your shoes. Now, what are you cooking?”
Anxiety thrums through me. As much as I like cooking, doing it for other people always stresses me out. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Nothing complicated.”
“Well, we can always jump on Zoom or something if you want to go over your outfit, makeup, or menu.”
“Jeez. Relax. It’s not a date.”
Her laughter calls me a liar. “Okay. Whatever you say, Emily.”
CHAPTER SIX
Dex
Friday is the day of the week working stiffs usually look forward to the most. Crystal Ball is busiest on the weekends, especially Friday nights, so it’s usually nothing but another work night to me.