Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Was he flirting with me? I couldn’t imagine. My attraction toward him made it hard to interpret how he looked at me with what felt like mischief in his eyes and a flirty grin.
“Your parents invited Josh and me to your house for Sunday dinner. And your mom said you made apple pie with the apples I gave you. But I only recall you picking one apple, which you ate the night I walked you home.”
“She misheard me. I told her I used apples from the ground that blew off your trees and landed in our yard.”
“Hmm, I don’t recall a windy day since we moved in. It’s a little way from my trees to your fence.”
I crossed my arms over my chest without responding.
“You have a beautiful voice. Did you sing in the high school choir as well?”
I pinched my lips together to keep from grinning. When I thought I could maintain my composure, I cleared my throat. “My father made me join his choir after my older sister, Sarah, moved out of Devil’s Head. I don’t like to sing.”
“I figured. Your lips didn’t match the words,” Kyle said, flashing me a gotcha grin.
“You said I have a beautiful voice.” I scowled at him.
“You do. It’s rather pleasant. But I didn’t say you’re a talented singer. I’ve never heard you sing. Neither has anyone else, huh? If you’re going to stand in the front row where everyone can see you, I think you should, at the very least, memorize the correct lyrics.”
I did not like him. Sure, I wanted him to tear off my clothes and do ungodly things to me, but not because I liked him. Why did he have to be so sexy and call me out like an errant child?
“Mr. Collins, I don’t know how my father would feel about you staring at my mouth during his sermons. Seems a little inappropriate to me.”
Kyle’s smile died as his Adam’s apple bobbed on a hard swallow. I enjoyed having the upper hand, but never imagined having it with him. Riding a wave of confidence, I stepped closer and stared at his shiny brown shoes momentarily before dragging my gaze up his body like he had done to me on more than one occasion.
When our eyes met, I grinned. “See you at Sunday dinner, Coach.”
He took a step back and adjusted his tie.
My hormones exploded like a volcano. Despite my feigned confidence, I trembled, drowning in a sea of impure thoughts about a man much older than me.
“Can I go to Ben’s after we eat?” Gabby asked, setting the dining room table.
“No. Sunday is a family day,” I replied, filling the water glasses from an orange Tupperware pitcher.
“Will his parents be home?” Mom asked, placing the tuna noodle casserole onto the trivet in the middle of the table.
Why did that matter? Mom did a great job of shaming Sarah and me for wanting to do anything with friends on Sundays.
“I don’t know. Why?” Gabby curled her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear on one side while scrunching her nose.
“If they have alcohol in the house, you could decide to drink,” I replied.
Mom eyed me with displeasure, and Grandma Bonnie snickered from the extra dining room chair beside the oak buffet; her hands busily crocheting. She wasn’t a churchgoer, but we picked her up every Sunday for dinner.
“I don’t drink. That’s your thing.” Gabby stuck her tongue out at me.
“Then you might decide to have sex,” I said.
“Eww, Ben’s my friend, not my boyfriend.”
“Yes. But Mom and Dad know that given the chance to have sex, their girls will have sex with anyone.”
“Eve!” Mom’s voice jumped an octave, and Gabby giggled.
“Amen, sister,” Grandma Bonnie added, earning a scowl from Mom.
“It’s true.” I nodded. “Last month, when I was volunteering at the nursing home, I delivered some magazines to Milton Bean in his room, and I was tempted.”
“Eve Marie Jacobson,” Mom said slowly, but she couldn’t hide her grin.
Gabby covered her mouth and snorted.
“Rumor has it, Milton was quite the Casanova in his day. You could do worse, Eve,” Grandma Bonnie added with a straight face.
“Never let your father hear you talk like that,” Mom said, ignoring Grandma Bonnie’s commentary.
“Talk like what?” Dad asked, reaching the bottom of the stairs just as there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” I shot my dad an exaggerated smile as I passed him on my way to the door.
“Hey,” Kyle said, handing me a paper bag of apples. “Josh wants you to make him applesauce.”
I stepped aside. “Is that so?” I smiled at Josh.
They no longer wore matching suits, but I liked Kyle just as much in his jeans and white-collared shirt.
“Glad you could make it.” Dad ruffled Josh’s already messy hair.
“Thanks for the invitation, Peter,” Kyle said as I closed the door.