Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He shrugged. “Like you said, sis, it’s your business. Not mine. As long as he treats you good and doesn’t hurt you. Not like that asshole you were married to.”
“Like I told you, we’re not an item. Maybe it wasn’t a random guy, but it was a random thing.”
“So you keep saying. By the look in your eyes right now, I’d say you’re not happy with that.”
I swallowed hard. “What?”
“You want something more than a one-time hook-up There’s nothing wrong with wanting a relationship, Waylynn. I’m sure you’re ready to settle down and pop out a kid or two.”
“Well, I don’t think this guy is ready for the whole white picket fence dream of mine. There’s an age difference.”
Cord rolled his eyes. “Who cares if he’s older or younger? As long as he makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”
Letting out a sigh, I took a drink of my Coke. “Like I said, we’re not together, so…”
Lucy brought our sandwiches. “Here y’all go. Anything else?”
Glancing at the waitress, Cord flashed his dimples and another wink. “Thanks, Lucy.”
Her cheeks heated again. “Sure thing, Cord.”
When Cord focused back on me, he picked up his sandwich and took a bite, then started talking. “I’ll tell you the type of guy you need.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you always talk with your mouth full?”
He nodded.
“And you hope to pick up a woman—or three—with those manners? Tell me, Oh Great One, who is the type of guy I need?” I took a bite of my sandwich.
“You need someone hard working, but not married to his job. Someone who knows how to treat a lady and won’t step out on you. A guy who wants the same things as you. Marriage and kids.”
Nodding, I lifted my Coke to my lips. Maybe my brother did know what I wanted.
“Someone like Jonathon.”
The drink slipped from my hands and crashed on the table, spilling everywhere.
Cord jumped back. “Shit, Waylynn. What happened?”
I sat there stunned for solid seconds while Cord wiped the spilled drink. I hadn’t even noticed it had been running off the table and into my lap.
“Damn, I’m sorry. It slipped from my hands.” I tried to help him clean up while Lucy rushed over with a rag.
“I’m sorry, Lucy.”
“No worries. I’ll get you another one.”
Sitting down, I stared at Cord. “Why would you pick him as an example?”
Cord stared like I had lost my mind. “Why Mitchell?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because he’s devoted to making Corina happy. I could have said Steed.”
“Mitchell? You said ‘Mitchell’?”
With a tilt of his head, he asked, “Who did you think I said?”
I shook my head. “Um, I don’t know. I guess I didn’t hear you when I dropped the drink.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
Putting on the fake smile I had mastered long ago, I replied, “I think I need a spa day myself!”
We both laughed. The rest of lunch was filled with small talk. My heart had finally settled to a normal pace by the time we stood and walked outside.
“Thanks for lunch, Cord.”
Leaning over, he kissed me on the forehead. “My pleasure. We need to do it more often, especially with the dance studio across the square now. I better run. Love you, sis.”
I nodded. “Let me know when y’all get to Vegas…and stay out of trouble! Love you too!”
“What’s that you say? I can’t hear you, Waylynn.”
Laughing, Cord turned and started toward his bar, Cord’s Place. Right as he crossed the street, I cried out, “Be good!”
He spun around and shouted, “Where’s the fun in that?”
* * *
Dropping the car keys on the kitchen island, I let out a long groan, opened the refrigerator, and reached in for a bottle of Great Northern beer. Amelia had turned me on to it after her little fling with Liam in New York. Finding the beer outside of the bright lights and big city of New York was a pain in the ass, but well worth it.
I twisted the cap off and leaned against the counter, looking around the guest house that I now called home. It was quiet. Too quiet.
Pulling out my phone, I hit Amelia’s number.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey, Waylynn. What’s up?”
“I’m bored and it’s too quiet in my house.”
Amelia chuckled. “Get a pet.”
“I don’t like cats or dogs.”
“Get a turtle.”
I laughed. “A turtle?”
“Yeah, you’re always pulling over on the highway to save them. Next time just bring Michelangelo home.”
“Michelangelo?” What the hell was she talking about?
“You know, the ninja turtles,” she said, laughing like it was the funniest thing ever.
Pursing my lips, I looked up at the ceiling. “Maybe I will get a turtle. I’ve always wanted one.”
“See, there ya go.”
“Yeah, but that’s not going to bring life into this place.”
“Then get a pig.”
“A pig? Can you be serious? I have a real problem here.”