Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Is that one good?” she asked, nodding to the Pink Lemonade.
“Tastes like June,” I answered. “Like that weather that’s perfect for hiking, but not as stifling as July.”
“Hmm.” She plucked my pint off the counter and took a bite, moaning a little as she swallowed. “Good description.”
I tried to look away from her mouth. Then I tried again as the echo of that moan bounced around my brain and took hold.
“You’ll like this one.” She pushed the pint of Orange Dreamsicle my way. “Go on. It’s not like I have cooties. Besides, we live together, so if I have them, you already do.”
I hesitated a second at how completely…unsanitary it was, but shrugged again and spooned a bite, my eyes closing at the smooth citrus and cream flavor.
“That one’s really good, right?” she asked, her eyes sparkling as they met mine. “Almost worth the sleepless night.” Her eyebrows rose as she looked at the counter next to me. “Oooh, that one looks delicious.” She discarded her current pint and leaned over me, bracing her palm in the space between us. “Brownie Batter.”
The woman had no concept of personal space, but I kept that thought behind my lips because she smelled so damn good. What the hell kind of shampoo did she use? Bottled pheromones?
“Got it!” Her shoulder brushed against my side as she sat back up, waving the pint like a trophy.
“I would have handed it to you.” I took another bite of the Orange Dreamsicle.
“It’s not fun if you don’t have to work for it a little.” She pivoted and plucked a pint from her side. “Here, try this one.”
Going Bananas was shoved into my hand.
“Are there really ten pints here?” I asked.
“Eleven,” she mumbled around her spoon. “I think everything is worth trying once.”
I spooned up a bite and thought that over as bananas and chocolate flooded my mouth. “Everything?”
“Yep.” She nodded. “I promised myself when Sutton was born that I would give her the best of both worlds. Stability by living in one place.” She motioned around us. “And adventure by saying yes as often as possible. I always look for a reason to say yes, and if it’s something new”—she lifted her brows in my direction—“but safe, then I’m game. You can’t know what you’re good at in life, what your passion might be, if you don’t try everything at least once.”
“So you stayed in Penny Ridge.”
“Yep.” She nodded and discarded that pint, reaching across me for the one labeled Mint Madness. It was slightly out of her reach, so I brought it just close enough for her to grab it, breathing in the sugar and citrus scent of her shampoo again. “The town is small enough for Sutton to know everyone and get that real feeling of community that only small towns have, and yet we never run out of things to do.” Her gaze flickered toward one of the oversized photos on the wall and lingered.
“Easter Island?” I asked, recognizing the statue in the picture.
She nodded and took another bite, dragging her gaze from the wall.
That’s when it hit me. The pictures weren’t part of the Madigan housing design. They were Callie’s. And there wasn’t a snowflake in sight. “Did you take those?” I asked, gesturing toward the wall with my spoon.
“What?” Her eyebrows flew up and she laughed. “No.” She shook her head and looked into her pint like it might offer another answer. “I wish I’d taken those,” she muttered, “but no.”
Shit. Maybe I was wrong, and they really were just pictures the staff had hung over the years.
“Those are some of the locations photographers with World Geographic get to go.” She looked toward the wall, her gaze dancing across the few photographs the kitchen light made visible. “Easter Island, Galapagos Islands, the Serengeti, just to name a few. I framed them as a reminder forever ago—the start of freshman year—and they just kind of moved with me.”
“Reminder of what?”
Her eyes lit up. “Every year, the magazine holds a competition for the best amateur shots and gives out a paid internship. It used to be a dream of mine.” She took a bite and pondered. “It used to be the dream. You know, the one you always knew was out of reach, but you pined for anyway? Like being an astronaut or winning an X Games medal.”
“Crew lives that dream.”
“Your little brother. Right.” She grinned. “Sutton has a little hero-worship in that department.”
A corner of my mouth lifted. “Most kids who grow up on the slopes do when it comes to Crew. So, you don’t want to go photograph the world anymore?”
“Dreams change when you have kids.” She smiled softly, glancing up her staircase. “Their dreams are what become important to you. Would it be amazing to travel the world and capture those kinds of images? Absolutely. But I built a life here so Sutton could have the kind of stability she deserves.” She shrugged. “And it’s not like I don’t get to use my camera every day.”