Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
"Oh, she has!" Bets cackles. "That's why she's been so cranky lately, Lou!"
"Who is he?" Gran asks.
"Does he look like the guy on that book cover?"
"Oh, my God." There's no way I'm telling either of these crazy women about Zayne. Knowing my luck, they'll be on his doorstep within the hour, demanding to know his intentions. Or, worse, demanding to know the condition of his package. Gran wasn't lying when she said they were old enough to do what they wanted. It's her motto in life now. And I'm pretty sure it's always been Bets' motto. "Can we please talk about something else? This doesn't even matter."
"Why not?"
"Because it's never going to happen!"
Gran and Bets share a look before Gran reaches for my hand. "Come sit down with me, dear."
I reluctantly let her lead me to the couch, flopping down gracelessly…only to grimace when a knitting needle jabs me in the butt cheek. I retrieve it, setting it aside.
"Why don't you want to talk about your young man, Emmaline?"
"Because he's not mine, Gran," I sigh. "He's just a guy at work."
"A client?"
"No. He runs a private security company that Camila contracts."
Gran nods knowingly. "And he has a stick up his butt and doesn't know you exist? Your grandpa was the same way when we first met."
I snort, finding that hard to believe. Grandpa worshipped the ground Gran walked on, and everyone knew it. The man didn't have a poetic bone in his body, but he wrote her the sweetest love letters.
"Zayne knows I exist," I mutter. "The man won't leave me alone."
Gran and Bets share another look. I swear, they've honed their twin powers over the last eighty years. They say more to each other with a look than most people say in an hour of conversation. It's terrifying, really.
I'm not sure what they're saying now, but Gran wraps an arm around my shoulders, running her fingers through my hair. "Then maybe you should stop fighting to resist him and find out why he's so keen to chase, dear girl. Before you miss out on something you can't get back."
"She's right." Bets bobs her head in an emphatic nod. "You don't want to end up old and alone like me, do you?"
"You aren't alone, Bets. You have us."
She smiles at me, but it doesn't reach her eyes like usual. "And I wouldn't change a minute of it. But there are some mistakes you can't take back, sweet girl. I know because I made the same one you're making now. I fought it until I chased my man clean out of town. He went off to war, never knowing how I felt about him."
"Bets." My expression falls. I didn't know that. I always thought she never got married because she never wanted to be tied down. She's always been independent, seemingly content on her own. "Did he…did he die overseas?"
"What? Good heavens, girl, no. The man came home and decided to go to work robbing banks."
"Bets, I don't think this story is having the intended impact," I say wryly. It sounds more like she might have dodged a bullet if you ask me.
"War changes people, Emmaline. The man who came back from that war wasn't the one I fell in love with. Who knows how life would have turned out if I'd just bent a little?" she asks. "Maybe his life would have been different."
"Maybe you'd have been a bank robber too."
"It worked for Bonnie and Clyde, didn't it?"
"What? No! No, it did not work for Bonnie and Clyde," I say, laughing in disbelief. "Their story ended with everyone dying."
"Perhaps, but it ended with them together." Bets' eyes twinkle. "That has to count for something."
I never pegged my aunt as a hopeless romantic, but I think she may be the biggest romantic I know. I'm not entirely convinced she's right about dying together in infamy being the way to go, but maybe she and Gran have a point.
I've been fighting so hard to protect my heart from Zayne…but what if doing it means leaving his open to be broken? Is that really the weight I want to carry for the rest of my life?
"We need to talk."
"We're talking now, Zayne," I say, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear while I work on proofing the press release Camila dropped on my desk a few minutes ago.
"In person."
"We just talked in person the day before yesterday," I remind him. "You cornered me in the breakroom and kissed me." He may have forgotten, but I certainly haven't. Ever since my talk with Gran and Bets, I've thought about nothing but him and those two kisses. They've become the star of very vivid, very frustrating dreams, as a matter of fact.
"That wasn't a kiss. That was a goodbye. When I kiss you, you'll know it."