Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Nice? Isn’t that a bit of a bland word? “So did I. Thank you for inviting me.”
Was that too formal? Do I sound disinterested?
Ethan bends toward me and I think to myself, This is it, but his mouth doesn’t touch mine. Instead, he lands a very chaste, slightly lingering kiss on my cheek before murmuring, “Sleep well, Marcie.”
My fingers touch the skin that tingles from his lips and I watch in utter confusion as he heads back to his car.
That was no true kiss good night but rather a brotherly, affectionate kiss on the cheek.
He most certainly didn’t try to get in my pants.
And he didn’t mention a second date.
My heart sinks as I realize that I’ve become way more invested in Ethan Blackburn than I should have. I’ve gotten my hopes up that maybe this could be something.
Clearly not.
CHAPTER 18
Ethan
Glancing at my watch as I sit on the top step of her front porch, I consider calling Marcie. It’s nearing six p.m. and she’s still not home from school.
I’ve learned enough about her to know that being a principal is not a forty-hour-a-week job and I know she often works late. I just don’t know exactly what “late” means on any given day.
My plan to come here was unscripted and spontaneous. After a shit day—fueled mostly by multiple small emergencies at the farm and a migraine-inducing meeting with Gabe about Alaine’s trust—I felt the need to get away from it all.
To me… that meant spending time with Marcie. She’s the escape I need, and I figured I’d just show up and fix her shutter. She’d be grateful and invite me in for a drink. Maybe we’d go out to dinner or cook dinner together. I realized that when I left her last night after the bachelor auction, I hadn’t asked her out again. I think I indicated enough throughout the evening that it wasn’t a onetime-only thing, but maybe I wasn’t clear enough. I didn’t reach out to her today, nor she to me. We were both busy.
But then I wondered if I’d made a critical mistake in not being more open with my desire to see her again. If she somehow got the wrong message by the gallant kiss to the cheek I levied—I’m a southern gentleman first and foremost.
I look at my watch again. Only two minutes have passed since I last looked and I consider calling it a night. Dinner is probably being served right now, but I did tell Miranda I wasn’t sure if I’d make it back.
My parents will be eating at the main house, anyway, something they’ve taken to doing almost every night to spend time with Sylvie. On any given evening, Kat, Trey or Wade might show up, each vying for Sylvie’s attention in a bid to be the favorite aunt or uncle. If it’s been overwhelming to my daughter, she hasn’t acted like it. In fact, her smiles have been easier to come by these days and she openly engages with everyone.
I actually feel like things are going to work out and that Sylvie is settling in nicely to life as a Blackburn.
The sound of a car approaching has my head craning to look down the tree-lined street, and I see Marcie’s silver Volvo approaching. As she pulls into her short driveway and parks, I can tell she’s surprised to see me sitting on her porch.
I just can’t tell if it’s a good or bad surprised.
Rising from her stoop, I brush off the seat of my jeans and watch as she gets out of her car, hauling out a huge tote bag filled to the max and looks quite heavy. I move to her rather than wait for her to approach and just as she’s rounding the front of her car, I’m there to alleviate the load.
Taking the tote from her—holy shit, it’s really heavy—I quip, “Hi, honey… welcome home.”
Her lips twitch, eyes twinkle. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting a very long time for you to show up,” I say drolly as we traverse the short sidewalk to her porch.
“You could have called or texted that you were coming over,” she points out.
“I could have. But then that would have ruined the surprise.”
“What surprise?” she asks as we reach the brick steps.
I point at the shutter. “I fixed that for you.”
Marcie’s eyes flare with delight, her mouth parting slightly and I wished I’d kissed it last night. “Oh, wow… you didn’t have to do that. I would have… um… gotten someone to fix it eventually.”
“I’m handy as fuck,” I remind her. “And I like doing stuff like that. More importantly, I like doing stuff for you.”
“Well, thank you,” she murmurs, her gaze coming to me. There’s a moment where we just stare at each other and then to my surprise, she moves up one step that puts her face a bit closer to mine, given our height difference. Her hand goes to my shoulder and she leans in, her trajectory clear she intends to kiss my cheek.