Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
According to Mom, the foot traffic on any given day went from obsolete to concert-worthy in Bradford-on-Avon. Slight exaggeration, perhaps, but it was definitely a busy afternoon. Tourists spilled out of a bus parked off the main road near the old Saxon church while villagers hurried about their own business, shopping at the local market, hanging out at the local pub, or…walking their dogs.
My mother praised George for not stealing a donut from the young girl twirling on the sidewalk and hooked her arm through mine, momentarily resting her head on my shoulder.
“Have I told you how happy I am that you’re here, my darling?”
I smiled. “You might have mentioned it a time or two.”
“It’s a dream come true,” she gushed. “We’ll have to get in some more sightseeing this week. I’ll cancel my book club and take you to Salisbury Cathedral on Friday. It is absolutely breathtaking. Did you know it was built in the thirteenth century?”
“Um, no.”
“Maybe we should go Saturday so Giles can join us. He knows so much about history and it would be helpful to have our own tour guide to—”
“Mom.” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and fixed her with a stern look. “I’m not interested in Giles. Leave it alone.”
“He’s so darn nice, though.”
“I’m just…not attracted to him.”
She sighed heavily. “You might as well tell me all about your business with the baker.”
My cheeks flushed on cue. “I told you everything already. I’m helping him…that’s all.”
“So you said.”
“We’re…casual, cordial business associates, Mom. That’s it.” I pulled my scarf higher around my neck to avoid checking messages. “And this is a good exercise for me because to be perfectly honest, I’m having doubts about my career move.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I know. Bad timing. I can’t help thinking maybe I was too hasty.” I held up my hand and continued, “You’ll probably say it’s normal to question major life choices as they’re about to unfold…and that might be true. But I’ve been doing some research for the bakery—analyzing sales graphs, and brainstorming hooks and slogans—and it’s so invigorating. I’ve missed this creative process. It’s like my brain has been thirsty to grapple with abstract concepts that make people stop and think and…hopefully buy something they need or feel strongly about.”
“Like pastry?”
I chuckled. “Yes. Exactly.”
Mom gave a weak smile as she led the way to a nearby park. She sat on a bench, cooing to her dogs as she dropped the leashes and fed them treats. I pulled my cell out, thinking this might be my chance to check my messages, when Mom spoke up.
“I’ve taken my share of risks in life, but I’ve never been as smart as you, Theo. I didn’t have one career path, let alone two. I sense you’re at a crossroads…professionally and possibly within yourself as well—and I’d like to give you a piece of advice. Always follow your heart.”
“I’m trying.”
She squeezed my fingers. “I know you are. And I commend your efforts. You’re only young once, and—hold that thought. George! Drop that.”
She chased after her dogs, leaving me to mull over her advice. I liked to think I was getting better at following my heart, but I was a people-pleaser by nature. I couldn’t help wondering if I’d unwittingly sacrificed vital pieces of myself to make others happy.
I was too careful.
Too cautious.
Too…safe.
I didn’t want to miss out on my own life, I mused with a sigh before checking my cell.
Fuck fairy cakes. Code.
Code.
And just like that, my heart slammed in my chest.
I bit the inside of my cheek, and typed, Tonight?
Scott sent a thumbs-up. Yes.
I glanced over at my mom wrestling a stick from one of the dogs to my phone and back again.
Oh, wow. I’d have to check the train schedule and have another uncomfortable “Don’t wait up for me” conversation with Mom and Alistair, but I didn’t think twice about my reply.
See you later.
Later that evening, Scott waited for me at the station in Bath wearing a dark beanie, a navy coat, and a fierce expression—sort of a scowl, but not quite. To be honest, he looked a little scary, but the spark in his eyes when he saw me moving toward him gave him away. He nodded in greeting, slipped my backpack from my shoulder, and hiked it over his, then led me to the street.
It was pouring.
He opened an enormous black umbrella and tucked me against him, covering my head and shielding me from the elements as we traversed empty streets. Torrential rain fell sideways, pounding the pavement and making conversation difficult. For once in my life, I didn’t bother trying.
Within minutes, we were soaked.
Scott unlocked the front door and pointed at the stairs with a grunt. I thought about making a caveman joke, but the silence felt necessary now. It protected us from the hum of electricity buzzing between us. He didn’t have to say a word. I knew he wanted me.