Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
It can’t be soon enough, but I sigh. “Okay. Yes.”
He steps back to look into my eyes again. “Don’t let Posey overwork you.”
“I won’t.” I smile.
“Goodbye, Carrie.”
“Bye, Rook,” I say with a touch of longing I hope he can’t hear.
As he pivots to walk away, I follow each of his steps with my gaze until he glances over his shoulder and shoots me a smile so breathtaking it could stop this entire city in its tracks.
“Why do you have so much pizza?” Telford grabs another slice of pepperoni and mushroom from one of the three boxes I set out on the kitchen island. “Not to mention, two types of dessert pizza. What’s going on?”
I tap the corner of one of the boxes. “Posey is Elio Franzini’s sister.”
His widened eyes give his reaction away, but he waits until he’s done chewing before he says anything. “Posey? The mural artist? That Posey is Elio’s sister?”
“It’s a small world.”
“I’ll say.” He takes another bite before washing it down with a swig of soda from a can he found in Abby’s fridge.
“So, she had all this delivered here for the two of you?”
Leave it to Tel to start a game of twenty questions without informing me that I’m playing. “From what I could piece together, she called Elio to ask him to send lunch for us, and he brought all of this with him.”
The crust in Telford’s hand tumbles onto the counter. “Hold up. Elio Franzini was here today, and you were dressed like that?”
I look at my jeans and T-shirt. The T-shirt has little blue paint splatter marks across the front because the brush slipped from my hand after I had that glass of champagne with Rook.
“Minus the blue paint,” I say.
“You know what they say about catching flies.”
I shrug. “Don’t leave the door open so they can’t come in?”
He laughs. “No. You’ll catch more with honey than vinegar.”
Stumped by what he means, I shake my head. “How does that apply to me? I’m always kind to people.”
“I didn’t say anything about being kind.” He stomps his shoe on the floor in frustration. “I meant that you’ll catch a guy’s eye more if you look sweet, like honey. Right now, you have more of a vinegar look happening.”
I can’t contain a laugh. “You really need to brush up on what certain sayings mean, Tel. If you tell someone they’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar, it means…”
“I know exactly what it means,” he interrupts. “It means you should be nice instead of a jerk. I was just using it in a different way. In a Telford way.”
I go for a piece of the same pizza Telford just ate. “I like the Telford way.”
“Good.” He beams with a smile. “Let’s find a movie to watch. Cindy is dying to snuggle up with me on the couch for a couple of hours.”
“It sounds like a plan to me.” I grab another soda from the fridge for myself.
Before I do, I sneak a peek at my phone. The only messages waiting for me are from my mom and another reminder from Nitespark about setting up my profile.
I make a mental note to respond to my mom tomorrow before I delete the Nitespark one.
I’m not going to need that app, after all, since I’m going to have sex with the hottest man I’ve ever met.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Rook
“You’re sure smiling a lot, Daddy.” Kirby can’t help but notice my stellar mood. I’ve been sporting a smile since shortly after I got home three hours ago.
When I was sharing a bottle of champagne with Carrie, my mom called, saying my daughter was in tears and asking for me. The crisis today was the result of Kirby misplacing a silver bracelet Chesca had bought for her in Boston.
Although my mom spent almost an hour searching for it, she came up empty. That’s when Kirby’s grief hit, so my mom reached out, hoping I could head home to renew the search.
I found the bracelet on the floor behind the nightstand next to my daughter’s bed.
The crisis was diverted, and my mom took off in search of a lemon drop martini.
“She’s right.” Holden swirls a finger in front of my face. “What’s up with you?”
“I’m having dinner with my daughter and one of my best friends.” I glance to where he’s seated at the head of my dining room table. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Yes!” Kirby yells.
At the same time, Holden shakes his head. “No.”
Kirby laughs. The end of the piece of spaghetti she’s slurping up dangles on her bottom lip. “You said no, and I said yes.”
Holden laughs, too. “You know I like teasing your dad.”
“I know,” she agrees, nodding as she stuffs the wayward spaghetti into her mouth with her hand. “I try to tease him, but he never gets it.”
I drop my fork on my plate. “When has that ever happened, Kirbs?”