Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Going by the look of things, not as good as he has. For starters, he’s easily dropped sixty pounds. He used to wear oversized T-shirts with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings characters on them, but now he’s dressed in a white Henley that isn’t hiding the fact that he’s got muscles. Instead of his uniform back then of baggy jeans or sweatpants, he’s in jeans that, while not tight, leave no doubt he’s fit.
The other difference is he’s no longer hiding behind his hair. Sometime in middle school, he grew it down to his shoulders and it was always hanging in his face. Now, it’s cut and styled, shorter on the sides than it is on the top. Will went and became a hot guy. Like, very much so. I’m happy for him. He was absolutely one of the sweetest guys on the island. It used to drive me nuts that he had to put up with a ton of shit from the same bully I did, Rita Ramsey. “Will the Whale” she called him. While I’d had the benefit of being able to leave the island—and Rita’s mouth— for ten months a year, he hadn’t.
“I’m good,” I tell him. “Happy to be back.”
“So you’re the new girl running things at the precinct,” he says.
“That’s me.” I laugh. “I’m who you call if you ever need someone to take care of a parking ticket for you,” I joke.
“Will’s the assistant chief at the fire department,” Tyler says. “We don’t ticket him.”
The stilted tone of Tyler’s voice is not something I’ve heard before. The fact that Will’s eyebrows go up in surprise at the same moment mine do tells me I’m not imagining it. Several seconds pass as Will and Tyler have some intense-looking non-verbal standoff.
Well, hell.
CHAPTER EIGHT
____________________________________
ASHLEY
WHEN WILL’S LIPS curl up into a smile and he shakes his head at Tyler, I assume I imagined the sudden tension.
“I’m going to run and get another beer,” he announces. “Anyone need anything?”
“I could use one,” Ben says. Taking his wallet from his back pocket, he opens it, pulls out two one-dollar bills, and hands them to Will. “For the beer and the tip,” he adds.
“I want a beer, but I also want a shot,” Reese chimes in, “so I’ll go with.”
Tyler and I each hold up our cups to indicate they’re full. Jana says she could do with a shot, so she heads to the bar with Will and Reese.
“Dartboard’s not available yet, so we’re just hanging at the table,” Ben tells us.
Tyler pulls out one of the pub stools for me. Taking a seat, I perch my feet on the chair rung and settle in. I used to come to Ted’s a lot with my grandmother when I was younger. She loved the buffalo wings, so we’d come in for lunch or an early dinner many times over the years. I didn’t make it in on my last trip to the island with my grandfather, so it’s been a while since I was here. Looking around, I note that not too much has changed. There are more brand signs—Blue Moon, Fat Tire, two Seattle IPAs, and three craft beers for starters—and the bar-height pub tables are newer. The booths against the wall across the room look to be the same though.
“You said you used to come here?” Tyler asks.
I smile as I fill him in on my grandmother’s love of the wings.
He chuckles as he sets his beer down. “She had damn good taste,” he says. “They’re solid. I come in on Wednesdays sometimes and order twenty to go.”
“As good as the wings are, there’s something even better these days,” Ben tells me.
“Is it the burgers? Because those were always good.”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Ted’s daughter is working here now and she added a few things. One of them is a bomb as hell roast beef. Better than that, they do gravy fries. It’s the au jus from the roast and it’s got small bits of the beef in it. I could eat those every day. The fries themselves are righteous, but the addition of the gravy takes it to the next level. Add in some banana pepper rings and you’ll be in heaven.”
Damn, they sound good. Better than the Cup o’ Noodles I ate earlier, that’s for sure.
“I’m kind of wishing I’d come here for dinner tonight instead of eating at home,” I groan.
“I’ll pick up lunch from here for us one day next week,” Ben says. “And speaking of Meghan, she just showed up. I’m going to go say hi.”
Frowning, I turn and look at Tyler. “Were we speaking about a Meghan?” I ask.
His eyes light up with humor. “It wasn’t at all clear, but yes. She’s Ted’s daughter,” he chuckles. “These days, a lot of conversations with Ben are about Meghan. I’m learning to read between the lines. No shit, when he first started doing it, Jana and I had a talk to ascertain whether we were flat-out missing chunks of conversation.”