Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
I reach over without thought, and grab her hand, squeezing it in mine. “Shit, I’m so sorry, February.”
This girl loves her shop, loves what she’s doing inside that pink gumball and she’s gonna lose it all. On the other hand, Mug Life is barely surviving, but I’m living my dad’s dream, not mine.
Life isn’t fair.
“When it rains, it pours, I guess.”
“Believe me, I understand that.” I run my thumb across her knuckles as I search her sad blue eyes. There’s more in there, I can see it. “What else is going on?”
She pulls her hand away and grabs her water, taking a sip. “Nothing,” she says, shaking her head.
“Really?”
“Why? What did you hear?”
My eyebrows dip as I stare at her. “What do you think I heard?”
She leans back in her chair and searches my eyes, trying to find the answer she’s looking for. “I’m not sure, but it seems people like to tell you things in this town.”
I chuckle as I get up and clear our plates off the table. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Please,” she says with a sigh.
I pour her a glass of red wine and grab myself a beer out of the fridge. As I sit down, I slide her glass toward her and she grabs it, taking a big sip.
“The reason people in this town tell me things is because they are like my family. They trust me, and in return, I trust them. It’s always been that way here in Magnolia Point.” I take a long pull of my beer as she runs her finger up and down the stem of her glass. “But no one has told me anything in regard to you.”
She closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head, obviously cursing herself for letting out too much information that she wanted to keep close. When her eyes open, there’s a mix between sadness and anger staring back at me. “Drake and Stella had their baby,” she whispers.
Christ, this girl can’t catch a break. “Damn, I’m sorry. But listen, when two assholes have a kid, it’s a known fact that the kid ends up making their lives hell. It’s karma I believe.”
She smiles and a small laugh escapes her plump lips. “I hope so.” Her eyes focus on her wineglass for a moment before she lifts them to me. “They stole my name.”
“They named it February?” That’s fucking weird.
“No, Ethan. Drake and I had discussed having kids. Well, I discussed it. He had no interest.” She shakes her head. “I told him that was my favorite name for a boy and they stole it.” She stares at her lap. “It feels like a slap to the face.”
I get up and move beside her, kneeling down and resting my hand on her leg. Definitely not a good idea because she needs comfort right now and suddenly my dick twitches as I touch her soft skin.
Get it together, you horny teenager.
“First of all, no one, and I mean absolutely fucking no one will ever slap that gorgeous face of yours. Not metaphorically or physically, as long as I’m around.” I grin at her and she gives a small smirk. “I’m a badass in disguise, learned it from my dad,” I whisper.
This time she giggles. “I can tell from the prom king picture.”
She may not believe it, but my dad was a real badass and that blood runs through me. He didn’t take shit from anyone and it gained him respect. I was taught to do the same, and I have my entire life. I’m a nice guy, but push me, and that other side of me easily appears.
“Second,” I continue, “them stealing the name you love is fucked up, but I believe everything happens for a reason. Like, I knew a guy named Ethan, and he was a douchebag who was still living off his parents when he was thirty-five. You don’t want a kid named Ethan when the possibility of him turning out like that is pretty damn high.” I squeeze her leg as I smile up at her.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Do you always come up with ridiculous stories to try to help people?”
I grab my chest, acting offended, with my mouth agape. “The stories I tell are all based on real-life events.”
Her eyes soften as she searches my face. “Thank you, Harrison. Somehow, that absurd story helped.”
I toss her a wink and stand up. “Everything will work out, February. You’ll see.”
“You always seem so sure of things.”
I refill her wine and walk into the kitchen. “Not always.”
“It comes off like you are.”
I’m sure of most things in life, except for the woman sitting at my table. The same woman that I tried to kiss and rejected me. The same woman that I have very dirty thoughts about. I’m completely uncertain about her. She gives mixed signals, like she’s playing Red Light, Green Light. I stop and go, stop and go. It’s confusing as hell.