Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
I didn’t need my daughter referring to Tom as “Daddy” in any instance, because when I saw the kitten do that, I knew who I wanted to be my daddy.
Christ, what was going on with me?
“We’re friends,” I told her.
“I caught him staring at you eight times during brunch. Eight times. I counted. That does not say ‘friends.’”
I’d caught a few of those as well.
And they felt good.
“He didn’t try to hide it, but you did,” Cadence went on. “Still, I caught you staring at him five times. I counted those too.”
“Okay,” I said, just to get this over with. “I’m attracted to Tom Pierce. He’s attractive. That happens.”
“He’s dope. And you should go for it.”
“Honey, I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I don’t know how to feel about it. Things between me and Tom are complicated. They always have been. Now he’s back in my sphere, I’m feeling a lot, my head’s messed up with it, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to have some space to sort it before I talk to my daughter about it.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably.
I glanced her way.
She had a slight smile on her lips as she stared out the front windshield.
She responded to honesty and openness.
But that smile wasn’t about me being honest and open.
Damn.
We drove the rest of the way home, I parked in the garage, and before I hit the opener to make the door go down, Nora took up position leaning against the jamb of the doorway to the house.
She was holding a martini glass filled with clear liquid and three of my bleu cheese stuffed olives stabbed with one of my gold toothpicks.
She had called that morning to share when she’d arrive.
As she’d caught an early flight, and we’d taken off to get to Tom and would not be there for her arrival, when we were on our way to Jewel’s, I’d asked Cadence to text and tell her where to find the hidden key.
Obviously, she hadn’t had trouble finding the key.
“Nora, it’s just past noon,” Cadence greeted after she jumped out of the car.
“Why do you Merriman women persist in telling me the time?” Nora drawled. “I own no less than three Rolexes, darling. And then there’s my diamond Chanel, my Van Cleef Alhambra and my Chopard.”
On her last, she raised her other hand and shook it at us, her wrist adorned with a rose gold watch that was attached to a deep-blue alligator strap.
I wasn’t that close to her, but I could still see the moving diamonds on the face.
“Because you’re drinking a martini!” Cadence returned.
“It’s just past two my time. And just past two is known in my circles as ‘Martini Time.’”
“Pretty much every time is martini time, isn’t it?” Cadence asked as she stopped in front of her dearest auntie of the heart, quite the position to hold, as I’d fortunately been able to give her a number of them.
“Are you going to embrace me or continue to berate me?” Nora asked.
Cadence gave her a hug.
I got mine in turn, and we headed into the kitchen.
“Are you settled?” I asked her.
“Your guest suite is sublime. But your lack of staff is alarming. I had to carry all three of my bags down the stairs. I was so taxed with this effort, naturally, I immediately raided your bar.”
I stopped dead.
“Three suitcases?”
She gave me a look and said nothing but, “Darling.”
That could mean anything from “I’m staying a month” to “You know me, I have to have choices, even if I’m only going to be here until Tuesday.”
I didn’t have time to pin down which one it was, Cadence led us to the family room, one of my favorites in the house.
In that room, I’d allowed the ceiling between the beams and the fireplace to be painted pink after I found the fabulous couch in pink plaid. It was busier than the living room at the front of the house, homier, with lots of plants and candles and books.
Nora gracefully sank into the cream armchair angled to face the couch. I sank onto the thick pad of the wicker armchair angled next to it. Cadence sprawled on the couch.
“So we spent our morning flying to the side of Tom Pierce as he saved a litter of kittens, did we?” Nora asked drolly, rim of her glass to her lips, dancing eyes aimed at Cadence, before she sipped.
Apparently, Cadence shared more than where the key was located.
“Mom says it’s complicated and she needs space to sort her head out,” Cadence offered.
Nora’s eyes drifted to me. “I bet you did.”
“Behave,” I warned.
“Why would I do something that boring?” she asked, but she didn’t give me time to answer. She asked another question, “Were the kittens saved?”
“It’s hopeful.”
“Were they adorable?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth hitched. “Indubitably.”
“He’s going to adopt all four of them,” Cadence put in.