Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I chuckled and told him, “I’m hardly Eeyore.”
“Hey, if the pinned on tail fits.”
“Well, given the choice, I’ll take that over being Tigger.”
He pretended to look offended. “Are you insinuating that I’m Tigger?”
I couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Let’s compare. Loud? Check. Overly bouncy? Check. Annoying?”
“He’s not annoying, he’s loveable! Only Eeyore would find him annoying.”
“Tigger would post a million photos of himself if he could.” I put on a cartoony voice and waved my arms as I called, “Look at me, everybody! Hoo-hoo!”
Ever burst out laughing and exclaimed, “Shut up!”
“Make me.”
I didn’t know why I said that, but those words did something to him. He took a step closer, his eyes sparkling as he asked, “Is that a challenge?”
“What if it is?”
When he pinned me to the wall of built-in bookshelves, I didn’t fight it. Both of his hands were pressed against my chest, so he had to feel the way my heart started racing as his gaze dropped to my mouth. He murmured, “I like challenges.”
Anticipation crackled between us. I’d been trying so hard to keep a lid on my attraction to him, but it was impossible. Somehow, it seemed like he was losing a similar battle.
He started to lean in, but then a deep voice from across the room broke the spell. “Oops! Looks like I’m interrupting something.”
Ever quickly retreated, as if we’d been caught doing something wrong. I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks as I glanced at my ex and muttered, “Hi, Sawyer.”
“Hey, Tracy. Sorry to barge in.”
“No, it’s fine.” I gestured from one man to the other and tried to keep the introductions simple. “Sawyer MacNeil, meet Ever Daley, one of our volunteers.” I turned to Ever and told him, “Sawyer’s husband co-founded the shelter.”
Sawyer put down the cardboard box he’d been carrying, and both men met in the center of the room. As they shook hands and exchanged dazzling smiles, Sawyer asked, “Why do you look familiar?”
“You might have seen me on YouTube, or Instagram.”
“That’s it!”
“I recognize you, too. You own that chain of amazing coffee houses.”
While they gushed over each other, I glanced from one to the other. They were both tall and muscular, and both were huge successes in their chosen fields, but there the similarities ended. Sawyer was sophisticated and gender-nonconforming, as likely to reach for a miniskirt as a pair of jeans. He was dressed down today in an all-black outfit consisting of slim-fitting pants, boots with heels, and a V-neck cashmere sweater. Meanwhile, Ever in his T-shirt and shorts looked like Sporty Spice to Sawyer’s Posh Spice.
I didn’t know why that occurred to me, but it made me chuckle. I tried to cover it with a cough, and both men turned to me with questions in their eyes. To deflect the attention away from myself, I asked Sawyer, “What brings you here?”
Suddenly, I remembered I was still wearing a wreath on my head, same as Ever. I self-consciously took it off and set it aside as Sawyer told me, “I stopped by to drop off some of our special edition holiday coffee, fresh from our roasters. I thought the residents and staff might enjoy it.”
“They’ll love it. How’s your husband?” I rarely saw one without the other.
“Alastair’s doing great. He’s currently running a few errands. We’re getting ready to fly to Scottsdale to visit my dad for Thanksgiving, and there are always a million things to do before a trip.”
“I didn’t realize he’d moved to Arizona.”
“Yeah, at the start of the year. The warmer, drier climate agrees with him.”
Sawyer and I ran out of chit-chat at that point. We both fidgeted awkwardly for a moment, until he said, “I should get going, since my to-do list is a mile long. Good to meet you, Ever. Happy Thanksgiving to you both.”
We both called, “Happy Thanksgiving,” in unison. As soon as he was gone, Ever asked, “What’s the story with you two?”
“What makes you think there’s a story?”
“Because that got awkward really fast.”
“We were involved once, a lifetime ago.”
Ever grinned. “Is that the type of man you’re drawn to?”
“What type are you referring to?”
His grin got wider. “Coffee moguls.”
“Back then, he was a soldier. We were both stationed in Afghanistan. Obviously, this was years before he met his husband.”
“He’s married to Alastair Spencer-Penelegion, isn’t he? The heir to a department store empire in the UK?”
“Right.”
“It’s been a few years, but our friend Roger used to be the head of Alastair’s security detail.”
“I know.”
“And as you pointed out, Alastair is co-founder of this shelter.”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying to see the whole picture here,” he said. “You work at a place his husband founded, and you rent a room from his husband’s former bodyguard. But it didn’t seem like you and Sawyer are close friends, since you didn’t know his dad had moved out of state.”