Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Later, we stood waiting in the living room while Darlene went upstairs to get the coats. When she returned, everyone reached for theirs, myself included. But rather than put it on, I stood motionless, mesmerized as Cheyenne stretched with her arms over her head, which caused the hem of her dress to rise. At least another two inches of her thighs appeared. I might have drooled.
Then she sighed, dropping her arms. “You sure you guys can’t stay longer? If you leave, that means it’s time for me to do the dishes.”
“Now?” Mariah asked as she buttoned up her coat. “Can’t you just do them in the morning?”
Cheyenne ruffled her hair. “Nope. Gotta get them done tonight.”
“Don’t you have a dishwasher?”
“We do, but the good dishes—the wedding china, we call it—all have to be done by hand to be sure they don’t break. They’re too old and delicate for the dishwasher.”
Darlene spoke up. “My mother passed them down to me, and I want to make sure they’re in good condition so I can leave them to Cheyenne when she gets married.” Then she crossed herself and closed her eyes, her lips moving in a quick, silent prayer.
Cheyenne ignored her mother and addressed Mariah again. “My brother and I always had to wash and dry the wedding china on holidays before we went to bed. It took forever.”
“I’d stay and help you, sis, but I have to get Blair home. Sorry.” Griffin gave her a grin that said he wasn’t the least bit sorry, and Cheyenne stuck her tongue out at him.
“Cole, why don’t you stay and give Cheyenne a hand?” My mother suggested, wrapping her scarf around her neck.
“That’s a great idea,” Darlene said brightly. Then she sort of bent over and rubbed one hip, her expression agonized. “I’d help her myself but I’ve been on my feet a lot today and the doctor said that isn’t good for my joints.”
“You should just get to bed, Darlene,” my mother said, shepherding Mariah toward the front door. “Cole will be more than happy to stay and help Cheyenne.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Cheyenne smiled at me and shook her head. “I can handle them.”
But Darlene beamed at me, reaching over and snatching my coat out of my hands. “That’s so nice of you, Cole. I’ll just hang this in the front closet.” Before she left the room, she and my mother exchanged a look that had me wondering if the whole helping-with-the-dishes thing had been a setup.
Either way, ten minutes later Cheyenne and I were pushing up our sleeves in the kitchen, the house dark and silent except for the running faucet and the hum of the dishwasher.
“I’ll wash, you dry?” she asked, adding dish soap to the side of the sink she’d plugged and lined with a towel.
“Sure.”
She took a plate from the stack to her left and placed it in the warm soapy water. “Oh! I almost forgot.” Slipping her rings and bracelets off, she set them on the windowsill above the sink. “So I don’t scratch anything,” she explained.
“Oh.” I glanced down at my wedding ring.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to take it off.”
“It’s fine,” I said, working it off my finger and placing it on the sill next to her jewelry. For some reason, I felt compelled to explain why I still wore it all the time. “Mariah once told me she likes when I wear it, so . . .”
“I think it’s nice,” she said. “I like a guy who wears his ring. It says something about him, you know?”
I nodded, my attraction to her growing even stronger. “Still, we’d better be careful with these dishes.”
“Damn right, we’d better,” she deadpanned. “This is my fucking wedding china, Cole. If we even look at it wrong, I might end up a spinster.” She laughed as she gently scrubbed the plate with a cloth. “My God. Is she not totally ridiculous?”
“She’s pretty bad,” I agreed, taking the plate from her and carefully drying it with the soft clean towel she’d given me. “But mine wasn’t much better tonight. Did you have the feeling something was up between them as we were saying goodnight?”
“Yes,” she said. “And it’s probably my fault because I made the mistake of telling my mom you bought me dinner last night. In her mind, I believe we are now betrothed.”
I laughed. “That’s all it takes, huh?”
“Apparently. Tomorrow I’ll be pregnant because we washed dishes together after dark.”
“Wow. Guess I should have worn the rubber gloves.”
She snort-laughed. “Right.”
“Good thing they don’t know about the phone call last night.”
Her body tensed, and then she giggled shyly. “Um, yes. A very good thing.”
We worked in silence for a minute, during which I was entirely too aware of how close she stood.
“I thought it might be weird today,” she said, her voice a little quieter. A confession. “Seeing you.”