Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I’m pulling back the covers on my bed when Colin comes out of the bathroom.
“Hey,” I say, turning and glancing at him, seeing that he too is wearing an undershirt and boxers. “We’re twins!”
I hold my hands to the side so he can see I’ve done as instructed.
Instead of looking pleased or relieved, he stops in his tracks and stares at me, his gaze drifting down to my bare feet then back up. He shakes his head.
I drop my arms to my side. “Now what?”
“Nothing,” he says roughly. “Get into bed.”
“Did you forget your rash cream or something?” I grumble as I climb into the plush, crisp hotel bed. “You’re irritable.”
“According to you, irritable is just my default state.” He pulls back the covers on his own bed and climbs in.
I stare at the ceiling and take a deep breath, the sound unnaturally loud in the silent room.
“It’s really quiet in here,” I say.
“It is. I forget how accustomed I am to the subtle soundtrack of the city, even living in a high-rise.”
“I could put on music on my phone. Or some sort of background noise,” I say, pulling back the covers and starting to get out of bed to retrieve my phone where I left it charging on the desk.
“I’ve got it. My phone’s right here.”
I lie back down, and a moment later, soft music starts playing from Colin’s phone.
I smile. He’s playing “Danny Boy.”
Chapter 26
Sunday, September 13
After another early morning driving session, during which I declare Colin fit for the open road, if not yet the crazy Manhattan roads, we take the hotel receptionist’s suggestion and decide to stop for brunch before heading back to the city.
The French toast (mine) and omelet (his, I helped myself) are every bit as perfect as last night’s meal, and I’m all but waddling as we leave the restaurant an hour later.
“Want to walk around for a while?” I ask, sliding my sunglasses onto my head. “I could stand to move before sitting in a car for two hours after eating all that.”
“Sure.”
Hudson’s a cute little town and a refreshing respite from the rush of the city, both New York and San Francisco.
“You want to go in?” I ask, pointing at one of the half dozen antique shops we’ve passed.
He hesitates. “No, I’m okay.”
“Come on. I’m still not ready to get into the car.” I open the shop door and enter before he can come up with another protest. He follows me in, and a solid twenty minutes later, I realize my mistake. My stated apathy for antiques remains strong, but his enjoyment of them was understated last night.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard him string so many words together at once, and he and the shop owner don’t seem even close to wrapping up their conversation on mid-century something or other.
I don’t mind, but I’m also bored, so I slip quietly out the front door of the shop to continue exploring.
It’s clear that antiques are the thing in town, but I also find a bookstore, which I browse for a while, and then I find my way into a jewelry store, which I enjoy more than I expect to. Antique furniture and home goods might not do it for me, but antique jewelry is a whole other thing entirely, one that I like quite a lot, apparently.
I’m ogling a Georgian Pink Sapphire ring that the shop owner tells me is from 1820 when the bell at the door tinkles. I turn and smile at Colin. “Hey! You found me.”
He holds up his phone. “I tracked your phone.”
“That’s creepy.”
“You did it to me just last week to see if I was near a gelato shop.”
“Which you were.”
“I was eight blocks away.”
“And yet, when you got home, there was coffee gelato in one hand. For me. And chocolate in the other. For you. So who’s the real winner in this scenario?”
He rolls his eyes. “When the three months are up, getting off each other’s family plan will be item number one.”
“Fine by me.”
In our effort to present the “living together, married couple” image, we went on a family plan. One of the side effects is that iPhones allows us to know the other person’s location if we so choose. I’m not complaining. It got me ice cream.
“Buy anything?” I ask, extending my hand and admiring the ring one last time as he comes to stand beside me at the counter.
“A desk for my home office, but it won’t get delivered for a few weeks.”
“What home office? Where can you fit a desk?” I ask, reluctantly sliding off the ring and handing it back to the shop owner. I’m not above buying myself a little something, but a several thousand-dollar ring is pushing the limits of treat yo’self.
“Your room.”
“I hope it’s a small desk,” I say, giving the shop owner a smile of thanks for his help and preceding Colin out onto the sidewalk. “The bed and dresser take up most of the room.”