Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
She had no control over how awesome she was, and Tasha got bored easily.
If you couldn’t constantly keep her entertained, which was damn near impossible, she’d just go find something—or someone—else to entertain her.
Which explained why she was currently in nursing school.
She didn’t really want to be a nurse, she just needed the challenge.
And Casten was probably giving her exactly what she wanted: a challenge.
“Did he call you?” I asked curiously.
Tasha shook her head. “No. I texted him like I do every night. That’s the only way I get information about you.”
That was true.
I tried to protect my family from the drama was going on around me. They didn’t need to be worried about me, too.
“Casten’s not going to get hurt,” Mig said drolly. “He’s a big boy.”
I wanted to laugh.
Mig had no idea.
Well, at least it would be fun to watch.
“These are really good cookies, mom. Thank you for making them,” I said, taking another bite of cookie.
They were chocolate chip, made with big chocolate chunks instead of chips.
“You’re welcome, mi hija,” my mother said. “Don’t think that you’re off the hook, though.”
Uh-oh.
If my Puerto Rican mommy was using Spanish, she was upset.
When we were little, my father had wanted to teach us Spanish, since it was their primary language, but my mother had been adamantly opposed to it.
‘We’re in America. We speak English.’
My father still spoke Spanish whenever the hell he felt like it, but he didn’t push the issue with my mother.
I never quite figured out what exactly the trigger was that caused her to revert back to Spanish. Usually, it was when she was extremely stressed, but that wasn’t the only time she did it.
I just knew that if mom was speaking Spanish, she was pissed, worried, excited or a crazy combination of those feelings.
Therefore, I did what I did best.
I ran away.
“Gotta go, mom!” I said, hopping to my feet. “Mig and I have a lot of miles to put in before we get to Alabama.”
Mig, sensing there was something amiss, held his hand out to my mother.
“It was nice to meet you, and I’ll take you up on that dinner next week,” he said, shaking the hand my mother offered him.
Dinner was a family affair.
Always.
So for my mother to invite Mig, without knowing him for more than five minutes, was huge.
Plus, it also didn’t hurt that my mother knew I had a crush on my next-door neighbor.
She’d also been there the day I saw Mig ride into town on his Harley.
She never forgets a face, and her mind was like steel trap.
She never forgot anything she was told.
And clearly she had not forgotten my drunken confession about why I wanted to divorce Ross.
I want a man like Mig. A man that makes my heart pound. A man that would protect me with his life. Who won’t ever let me go. And if I say I want him to, he’ll fight for me.
And, what I said to her still held true today.
Hopefully I had that, because I don’t think I could let Mig go now even if I tried.
Chapter 21
I’d rather live life as an honest sinner than a lying, fuckwad hypocrite.
-Mig’s secret thoughts
Annie
I furiously tapped Mig’s shoulder, pointing to the side of the road where I wanted him to stop.
He dutifully pulled over, without a complaint, and turned the bike off.
“What are we doing?” Mig asked.
I pointed to the Louisiana/Alabama state line.
“There,” I indicated the big sign.
He pulled over, stopping right over the state line.
Then, with a huge smile on my face, I got off his bike and walked back to the sign that distinguished the area in front of me as the spot I was looking for.
Then I hopped over a foot to my right.
“Did you see?” I asked him loudly.
He was studying me with a bemused look on his face.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“You saw me time travel?” I asked for confirmation.
His brows rose.
“I’m not quite sure what I saw,” he admitted.
I grinned, then hopped back over the line.
“There, did you catch it that time?” I asked teasingly. “I lost and then regained an hour in less than a second. Time travel, baby. That’s my superpower!”
He turned his head up to the sky.
“Annie,” he said, a smile playing in his voice. “You’ve made me stop no less than ten times. Two of those times were to pick wildflowers on the side of the road. For the love of God, woman,” he turned his face down to me, “can we please just get to where we’re going? My mom expects us in time for dinner, and I swear to God, if we’re late, she’ll never let you forget it.”
I scrunched my nose at him.
“Okay, but could you just take a pic…”
He got off the bike and started stalking towards me.
I giggled and started to back up.