Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 92336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Well, I really appreciate that. My folks will probably still come, but we could use the manpower for the heavy lifting.”
“Why exactly are you moving again?” Ty asked.
I simply didn’t respond. There was no way I was going to embarrass myself in front of him.
He sensed my apprehension. “That’s okay. You don’t have to explain. It’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s not,” Damien said before he suddenly got up. “I think the food might be ready.” You could cut the tension in the air with a steak knife.
“Make sure you give her some of each kind of meat,” Ty called out.
Damien arranged the medley of steak tips, sliced steak, grilled corn and grilled vegetables onto three paper plates.
I got up to retrieve mine. “Smells amazing. I can’t believe we’ve never barbecued out here before.”
“Well, technically, I don’t allow barbecuing on the premises.”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, thankfully, I have an in with the landlord.” I smiled. “This is nice. Thank you for including me.”
The expression on his face lightened and eventually transformed into a full-on smile. “Well, you didn’t let my crappy mood scare you away. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
The three of us ate in silence for a while until Tyler put me on the spot. “Okay, so which of the meat tasted better to you? The tips or the flank steak?”
Looking between the two gorgeous, dark-haired brothers with the matching smiles, I couldn’t help but laugh at their little competition. Taking a sip of my wine, I crossed my legs and leaned back into the chair, pretending to ponder it as if it were a tough decision. Truthfully, the flavor of the flank steak was phenomenal compared to the tips.
“The flank wins. It tasted amazing.”
The smug look on Damien’s face gave away whose seasoning recipe it was. Ty shook his head and downed the rest of his beer while Damien broke out in laughter. It just figured that my taste buds gravitated toward his concoction. Every part of me was attracted to this man apparently.
I listened for a while as Damien and Tyler told me some stories about growing up in San Jose.
The mood darkened a bit when Tyler asked, “Have you talked to Mom lately?”
“Not in a few days, why?”
“The doctor put her on a new med. She said it’s making her sick.” He hesitated. “Is it okay if I talk about this in front of Chelsea?”
“Yeah. She knows Mom is depressed.” Damien rubbed his eyes and exhaled. “I really need to pick her up and bring her here whether she likes it or not. Maybe this weekend.” He looked at me. “My mother doesn’t drive.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
“She used to, but then she started to get panicky whenever she’d drive on the freeway. One of us goes to get her when she comes to visit.”
“Our mother was never the same after our dad died,” Tyler added.
“I know. Damien’s told me a lot about that.”
Damien changed the subject. “How about those cigars?”
Tyler took out the clear plastic bag. “You gonna smoke one, Chelsea?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure.”
He cut the long, tightly rolled cigars and gave one to both Damien and me. Rubbing it in between my fingers, I took it to my nose and breathed in the spicy yet earthy scent. He then came around with the barbecue igniter and lit it for me.
Sucking in the smoke, I immediately coughed.
“You didn’t inhale it, did you?”
“I did a little.”
“Don’t.” Ty took it from me and brought it to his mouth, drawing in the smoke, slowly blowing it out into my face. “Just taste it for a few seconds then let it go.”
I was suddenly massively flushed. There was something about those words that seemed sexual. When I looked over at Damien, I saw that the death stare from earlier had returned in full force.
“You know, the longer and wider the cigar, the more intense it is,” Ty said.
“That goes for a lot of things, which is unfortunate for you, little brother,” Damien said before taking a long drag of his own cigar.
Ty spoke through his laugh, “Shut the fuck up.”
As I started to get the hang of cigar smoking, I leaned back and looked up at the night sky as I practiced blowing smoke rings into the air.
It was quiet, and I could feel both of their eyes on me.
Ty was the first to break the silence when he said, “There’s something so goddamn sexy about a woman smoking a cigar.”
“Really? A woman? Or that woman?” Damien snapped.
“You’re right. It does depend on the girl.”
An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air.
Ty’s next question threw me for a loop. “Do you have plans for the rest of the night, Chelsea?”
“Um…no.”
“Would you want to head to Diamondback’s?”
I knew that was a bar and club not far from our building that often featured live music and dancing.