Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He gives me a tight smile then steps back, forcing two boys that are maybe seven and fourteen out of hiding to stand in front of him. “Sucks to meet you like this,” he says, and I look from the boys to him. “I’m Gareth.” If I didn’t have Harlen, I would be finding out if he’s married, because he’s gorgeous, with lots of tattoos, dark, almost black hair, and piercing blue eyes. “This is Max.” His large hand wraps around the younger boy’s blond head, and his green eyes smile up at me. “And Mitchell.” He wraps his hand around the older boy’s shoulder, and I see that he looks like his dad, with the same dark hair and stunning blue eyes. “We live across the street.”
“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Harmony,” I reply.
Gareth nods then looks toward my driveway before turning to me once more. “The boys were playing ball in the front yard and hit your car, broke out the taillight.”
“We’re sorry,” both boys say in unison, and I look at them and smile softly.
“It’s okay.” I slide my eyes from them to look at their dad. “Can you give me a few minutes to get dressed and I’ll come check it out?”
“Sure.” He nods.
“Thanks, be right back.” I shut the door and head for my room. I go to my closet and pull on a pair of sweats, grab a bra and a long sleeved T-shirt, putting both on before heading back toward the front door. Sliding my feet into my flip-flops, I open the door and find them still standing outside waiting for me. I follow them to the back of my car and find that the taillight is not just broken, but shattered. Even the bulb is busted.
“Who hit the ball?” I ask, and the boys look between each other while their dad goes tense at my side, probably thinking I’m going to lose my mind. “Just saying whoever did could play for the Mets.”
“It was me,” Mitchell says, his chest puffing out with pride. “But I don’t want to play for the Mets. I want to play for the Yankees.”
Smiling at him, I listen to his dad laugh then watch as he ruffles his son’s hair playfully.
“We’re really sorry about this,” Gareth says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Not sure how you wanna take care of it, but I work part time at a shop in town. If you come in, I’ll fix it, or you can bill me. Whatever works.”
“Can I let you know?” I ask, wondering if my warranty will cover the cost of having it fixed.
“Of course,” he agrees, giving me a smile, and that smile makes him even more gorgeous.
“Dad, I’m hungry,” Max says, and he pulls his eyes from me to look at his youngest boy.
“When aren’t you hungry, kid?”
“I don’t know.” Max shrugs, looking down at his feet.
“I’m hungry too, Dad. Can we go to McDonald’s?”
“Christ,” Gareth mutters, and his eyes come back to me when I laugh.
“Go feed your boys. I’ll let you know what happens with the taillight.”
“Right.” He lifts his chin. “Nice meeting you, Harmony.”
“You too, and thank you for being honest about this.” I toss out my hand toward the trunk of my car.
“Anytime. Later.” He lifts his chin once more, turning on his boots.
“Later.” I smile, watching the boys run, skip, and push each other as they cross the street and head up their walkway.
Pulling my attention from them, I look at my taillight and mentally add getting it looked at to my list of things I need to do, before I head back inside to finish making coffee. Once the pot is done brewing, I take a cup with me outside and lean against the railing, wishing I had at least something to sit on. I need to get some chairs, a table, and maybe a barbeque for out here, but my first priority is rugs for the living room and my bedroom. Winter will be here before long, and wood floors tend to be cold, so I need something to help counteract that. I also need a bed for my guest room, and maybe a desk and chair for my third bedroom, but I still haven’t decided what I want that room to be yet.
Thinking about all the things I still need to buy for the house and all the money I will eventually have to spend, I sigh. I love having a place to call my own and a house to decorate, but not having an endless supply of money to do what I want sucks. Taking a sip of coffee, I watch Dizzy for a few more minutes then go back inside, leaving the door cracked for him to get in.
I take a quick shower, leaving my hair dry so I don’t have to blow it out again, then get dressed in a pair of jeans, a lavender long sleeve, scoop-neck T-shirt, and a pair of strappy cream-colored sandals. After I finish getting dressed, I do minimal makeup—mascara, bronzer, and blush—then go in search of Dizzy. Finding him still running around the backyard, I call him inside, close the door, and lock it before grabbing my bag and my keys from the island. I stop when my cell starts to ring, and I pull it out of my purse. Seeing a local number I don’t recognize on the screen, I put it to my ear as I head toward the front door.