Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“You know exactly what I mean,” she shouted back, wisps of hair curling wildly around her face, a strawberry blond halo. I wanted to reach out, tug a curl and see if it sprang back the way I thought it would. I didn’t dare. She’d probably bite my hand if I got too close.
I kept my mouth shut, watching her to see what she’d do next. As she often did, Savannah surprised me.
Letting out a long sigh, she deflated, all her righteous anger draining away as quickly as it had flashed to life. “What do you want?” she asked grudgingly.
I wished it were as simple as that. Who knew? It might be. Could I tell Savannah what I couldn’t bring myself to admit to Griffen?
I opened my mouth, the words at the tip of my tongue. I want the kitchens. So simple. All I had to do was ask.
My mouth snapped shut. I couldn’t. I trusted Savannah. Why? I didn’t know. Maybe because she hadn’t gotten me kicked out of the house yet, even though I’d given her plenty of reasons to get rid of me. Maybe because she’d always been fair, even when I was a massive prick. If I could tell anyone, I thought it might be her.
I’d never know, because I was keeping my mouth shut. I was too close to getting Mrs. Bailey to quit. To claiming my kitchens. I couldn’t mix up the plan this late in the game.
Bullshit. I knew it even as the thought crossed my mind. I was the master at improvising. This wasn’t about the plan. No, this was about Savannah and not wanting her, wanting anyone, to see that soft mushy spot inside of me. The part of me that needed back in those kitchens, needed to claim them, to make my mark on this place, on this house. On my family.
I was barely ready to admit to myself what it meant to be back here, to want the kitchens for my own. I wasn’t going to admit it to Savannah.
“Are you trying to make me crazy, Finn? I have enough to do to keep this place from falling down on us without running interference for you with Mrs. Bailey. Can’t you find someone else to annoy? Go pester Griffen.”
I just lifted an eyebrow and took another drink of my water. I didn’t want to pester Griffen. I wanted to pester Mrs. Bailey until she quit and left the kitchens to me.
“You know what’s going to happen if she walks out, don’t you?” she persisted. “Griffen wasn’t kidding. You said the last thing you wanted was to cook for your family.”
I had said that. And it was the last thing I wanted. Until it wasn’t. But I couldn’t say that to Savannah. She’d probably smack me. I was perverse enough to wish she would. Doing my best angry teenager, I jerked up a shoulder and curled my lip. “I don’t want to cook for them,” I lied.
Head shaking, she said, “I don’t understand you, Finn.”
I shrugged, dropping the act, and grinned at her. “I don’t understand me either. So far, it’s working for me.”
Savannah opened her mouth, likely to shout at me again, when her phone beeped. Pressing her lips together and sending me a glare, she checked the screen. Whatever she saw drained the blood from her face.
Tapping the screen, she unlocked the phone and scrolled, reading a text. I couldn’t see the words from my angle, but it was a long one. She blinked at the screen, time stretching, her eyes flashing with emotion. Grief, fear, confusion. She wobbled on her feet. I took her arm, squeezing to get her attention.
“You okay?” I asked, the humor gone. Something was very wrong. Savannah didn’t get upset when she was working. Except when she yelled at me. Otherwise, she was implacable—endlessly efficient and effective. Not emotional. Not hysterical. The way the breath jerked in her lungs, I knew she was about to be both.
“Hey,” I urged, jostling her arm to get her attention. “What’s wrong? Who is that?”
Savannah shook her head slowly. “My mother-in-law. Oliver’s mother. Nicky’s grandmother.”
I assumed Oliver had been her husband. “Is she okay?”
“She— I guess. She doesn’t say. I haven’t heard from her in so long. I didn’t think she’d—” Savannah drew in a slow breath and let it out, her gray eyes dazed.
I stepped into her, slinging an arm around her shoulders in a gentle hug. Whatever was up with that text, it had thrown her completely off her stride. Nothing threw Savannah Miles off her stride. She was unstoppable. I squeezed her shoulders, bringing her back to earth.
“What does she want?”
“Hmm?” Savannah was still looking at her phone, though the screen had gone dark.
Another squeeze, and she lifted her face to mine, her gray eyes clouded and distant. I’d put my arm around her in comfort. That was all. Comfort.