Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Garrett lingering against a wall in the corner helps. Every time my attention sweeps that way, it gets hooked on his smile, on his dimples, on him. I could stare at that face for hours.
“What’s the next one?” Someone hollers.
“Oh, right.” I reach into the cage and pull out another ball. “Did you score, twenty-four!”
“We all know Saul did,” someone chirps, earning snorts.
Saul is nowhere within earshot tonight. Neither is Gertie.
I give them time to search out their numbers and for the chatter to die down before I reach into the cage again. “Oh, this one’s my favorite …” I pause for effect, until I have everyone’s attention. “Your place or mine, sixty-nine!”
A roar of laughter erupts as everyone searches for the number.
Garrett arches a curious brow, and I wink before dragging my eyes down the length of him. The mental image of his body beneath those clothes still burns bright in my mind, and that memory stirs other memories. Ones I shouldn’t be having right now.
“That’s bingo!” Roger waves his card in the air, distracting my lustful thoughts.
Garrett catches my gaze long enough to cast a lazy salute before ducking out.
I frown. Where’s he going? Will I see him again tonight?
“One more round?” someone calls out, stopping me from chasing after him.
“Just one!” someone else yells, followed by, “Encore!”
Nancy never gets an encore, I think with smug satisfaction. “Yeah, why not.” I drop the used balls back into the cage.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The lamp in Ned’s front window casts a dim light in the modest brick bungalow when I pull my car into his driveway. “As promised, door-to-door service.”
Ned lingers a moment, staring out at the house. “I still remember the day Trudy and I walked through that front door for the first time. It was the summer of ’67, and she was wearing a yellow dress, bright as a canary.”
I smile. “I’ll bet you have a lot of memories here.”
“Lots of memories,” he agrees. “Lots of laughs, lots of tears.” He pauses. “I talked about her a lot tonight, but Vicki didn’t seem to mind. She had a lot to say about Gus too. I think we both needed to talk to someone who understood.”
“It’s a good thing you listened to me then, huh?” I nudge his arm with my elbow. “You should come with me again next week. You and Vicki can talk about Trudy and Gus some more. I’m sure they would be happy you two are doing that.” Finding some comfort in these lonely after-years.
“You know, maybe I will.” His mouth curves in a frown. “What was Garrett Harrington doing there tonight?”
“Trying to win over Shirley with a town park redesign that he’s willing to fund.”
“Did it work?”
“Doubt it.”
He chuckles. “That is one tough bird. But good for him for trying.”
“Yeah, well, now I think she’s mad at me for helping him. Or just talking to him.” Or because she sees the chemistry between us that I was stupid enough to think I could hide. That guilty feeling hasn’t gone away.
“She’ll get over it.” He waves my worries away. “Todd told me HG is relooking at saving some of the original building. That might be a nice compromise.”
“That won’t change her mind. Plus, who knows if it’ll happen. HG could just be saying that to appease people, like that developer who cut down the two-hundred-year-old elm tree.”
“Oh, I remember that one. Boy, were people mad about that. But they moved on. It’s what we all have to do.” Ned leans in a touch. “Todd also told me what he walked in on in the basement the other day.”
I groan, my cheeks flushing at the thought of that conversation. “Todd has a big mouth.” There’s no point denying it anymore, though.
“He’d say the same thing about you.” He twists his lips. “You know, it’s okay to admit you were wrong about Garrett.”
“Was I, though?”
“I think you know the answer to that.” He reaches out to pat my wrist. “But that’s just my two cents. What do I know? Have a good night.” He eases out of the car and trudges up the steps to his front door.
I wait until he’s safely inside before I dig out my phone to text Garrett.
There’s already a message from him waiting for me.
Garrett: You named your dishwasher Stuart?
Scarlet’s cackle of laughter greets me as I push through the front door and shed my coat and shoes. “I can’t decide if it’s better or worse than last year’s calendar.”
“What was last year’s?” Garrett’s voice stirs my blood.
“Fornicating bugs.” I step into the kitchen to find them both lingering with a bottle of beer in hand, Garrett studying November’s webbed foot.
“Where do you even find something like that?”
“You’d be surprised. Comfortable much?” He’s changed into track pants and a T-shirt, and looks ready to settle in for the night. I’m thrilled, but this was unexpected.