Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“That’s a decent way to put it,” he said after a moment.
She looked up to see him watching her. “You were going to make tea,” he said. “Stay there and let me do it for you.” Without waiting for her okay, he picked the kettle up off the stove and brought it to the sink and began filling it.
She reached into the bowl of fruit and plucked out a star-shaped piece of watermelon and placed it in her mouth. It was firm and sweet and perfect. “You picked out a good watermelon,” she told him. “Not always an easy feat.”
He glanced up at her as he turned on the burner, the flame sparking to life, and then placed the kettle over the fire. “I bought three,” he said. “I figured at least one would be good. Mushy watermelon would have ruined my recipe.” He smiled, and she stared at him for a moment. And then she did cry, her face contorting as hot tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
With a look of alarm, Ambrose approached her, leaning over and turning her chair so that she was facing him. He didn’t ask her why she was crying; he simply gathered her in his arms and held her as she wept. “I didn’t realize the thought of mushy watermelon would upset you so much,” he said. She laughed. He was kind, and funny, and his sweetness was what had made her cry, what had made her feel safe enough to be vulnerable in his presence.
And God, but she hadn’t cried in a long, long time, especially not in front of anyone. Especially not someone she barely knew. “Why aren’t you married, Ambrose Mars?” she murmured when her tears had ceased. “Do you know how many women would scoop up any man who made watermelon stars?”
He removed his arms and stepped back, and she suddenly missed his closeness, the clean, masculine scent of him right against her nose. I want to know you, she thought, and the realization brought a buzz of fear, yes, but it also made hope glitter inside.
He smiled in that quizzical way of his and paused as if her question might have a double meaning or was more complicated than it seemed. “Marriage isn’t in the cards for me.”
She swiped at the lingering wetness on her cheeks. Marriage isn’t in the cards. Well, that was an odd thing to say. “Have you sworn an oath to an ancient brotherhood?”
He lifted the kettle off the burner and placed it back on another. “No. I’m just . . . not great in relationships. I like my life the way it is.”
She stood, stepping to the cabinet where she kept her mugs and handing him two before opening the second cupboard, which contained the tea bags and the honey. “Okay. That’s fair, I guess. There’s nothing wrong with being a confirmed bachelor.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Coming from someone else, the words might have sounded snarky. But Ambrose gave her a teasing tilt of his lips, and his eyes squinted when he did so, and honestly, it made her stomach flutter. He placed a tea bag in each mug and then handed one to her. They both took a moment to add a couple of teaspoons of honey, and then he followed her into the living room, where she curled up in a corner of the couch.
Her phone rang, and she reached for it on the coffee table, about to silence it until she saw it was the number of the station. “I should take this,” she said. “One second.” She answered and heard Adella’s voice on the other end say her name.
“Hi, Adella.”
“How are you? I was just calling to check in.”
“Thanks. I’m fine. A little bruised.” It was kind of Adella to reach out, especially since they weren’t overly close at work. Maybe this was her way of letting Lennon know that even despite that fact, she had her back.
“Arnica gel. It will clear the bruise up in half the time.”
She smiled. “I’ll Instacart some tomorrow. Thanks for the tip.”
“I could drop some off to you on the way home. Half an hour or so?”
“Thanks, but Agent Mars is here, and as soon as he leaves, I’m heading to bed.”
“Oh.” She paused as if Agent Mars being there had taken her by surprise. And maybe it had. Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, but her guard was down at the moment and she’d simply told the truth. “Okay, no problem. Anyway, we were all worried when we heard what happened. Heal up quick, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks for calling, Adella.”
She hung up and glanced at Ambrose sitting on the other end of the couch as he took a tentative sip of the steaming tea. He set it down and looked over at her before picking up their conversation. “What about you, Lennon? Have you ever been married?”