Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
We found a little diner that was exactly what Isaac was looking for. It was an odd shade of pink and white. What even was that?
There was a bell on the door, and the second we walked in, I was pretty sure time froze. Everyone stopped moving and talking. This one dude legit had his fork halfway to his mouth as he looked at us, and a piece of silverware from someone else clanked to their plate. It smelled like grease and country, but there were no hats on the waitresses. The apron thing was happening. “Should we make a run for it?” I whispered.
“Hell no, this is awesome. Just don’t let me get beat up.” He took a step, then another. “Howdy, y’all.”
Jesus fucking Christ, if he didn’t stop with the howdies, I was going to kill him.
An older woman approached, wearing pink and white like the building; her nametag read Kay instead of Bea. “Isaac and Cohen Mitchell, I assume.”
Um…what the fuck? Were we in the Twilight Zone?
Isaac took a step back. “I think maybe running was the correct option.”
“Oh, hush. Lauren told me about y’all. Even if she hadn’t, it’s all over Buckridge already. ’Specially that part about a Mitchell kissing an O’Ralley. I bet Big Daddy killed Brody when he found out.”
Huh? “Big who?” The hot guy with the great mouth had a father people called Big Daddy? And he was an O’Ralley?
“You’ll see.” Kay winked. “Follow me.”
Everyone stared at us while Kay led us to a table. We sat, and she put menus in front of us as Isaac slipped his Aviators on top of his head. “What’s good here?”
She ignored his question. “Ya know, y’all are gonna keep standin’ out if you dress like that. Not that you wouldn’t anyway.” She turned to me. “’Specially you being a Mitchell and all. Half of us thought there were no Mitchells left. I mean, we all knew about your mama and her secret-not-so-secret relationship with Harris, but when she up and disappeared, rumors went around that maybe your granddaddy had her offed, so we never knew for sure. Not that he was that kinda person, of course.” She winked. Fucking winked again. Did that mean he was that kind of guy?
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. She was the second person I met who had a different story about my mom and my dad—this one including the possible murder of my mom by my grandparent, apparently; I wondered if he’d been involved in something illegal, given her wink. “Is there something wrong with you—”
“Coffee!” Isaac said loudly, cutting me off. “We need coffee, STAT! Or ASAP, like right now. Please and thank you, Kay. That’s a lovely name, by the way. You remind me of my aunt Bea.”
Aunt Bea, my ass. He sure as shit didn’t have an aunt Bea.
“I’ll be back in a jiff with your coffee,” Kay said before walking away.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” I told Isaac, “because after this, we’re going to the grocery store to get food. I never plan on leaving the house again.”
“How will that work when you reopen your distillery and live here forever?” Isaac offered.
I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t, when I noticed the guy behind him looking at us and listening. Nope. I wasn’t giving them any more gossip. Let them all wonder what I was doing here—not that I had any idea myself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Brody
Behind the steering wheel of his truck, Dwain jammed out to some pop song, his shoulder bumping into mine as I sat in the middle seat, wedged between him and Walker. There was something delightfully amusing about seeing my Goliath-brother singing along with whatever female pop artist he had blasting through the speakers. But despite how entertaining it would have normally been, I was still suffering from a splitting headache and had to turn the volume down.
“The fuck, Brodes?” His demeanor shifted from excitement about the song to rage in an instant. He snarled, “This is my favorite Hailee Steinfeld song.”
As he turned the volume back up, he glared at me the way he had at breakfast, which I was still pissed at him about. He didn’t need to get Big Daddy all worked up over that stupid kiss, which admittedly wasn’t stupid at all…and I was thinking way too much about it, considering it should have been wiped out with the rest of my memory of the night before. I reminded myself that the event had surely been exaggerated in my head because of the alcohol. No way was this Cohen Mitchell as attractive as I was now imagining.
I was being ridiculous about the whole night, just like Dwain had been ridiculous to make such a fucking big deal over nothing. Although, despite being annoyed with him, neither Walker nor myself had been in any position to operate heavy machinery, so we’d asked him to give us a ride for our weekly Feed & Seed trip and now were on our way to the grocery store for painkillers and Pedialyte to soothe Walker’s and my pain.