Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Ahh, shit. I’m sorry,” he says. “My aunt passed a few months ago, and my cousin and I were left to do the same thing. It’s rough.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter. “I’m terrified to walk back into that house and not see her sitting in her old rocking chair, knitting something for her future great grandchildren while screaming at the TV.”
“Yeah, I bet. The first time is going to suck. I won’t sugarcoat it,” he says, sparing me a quick glance as the snowfall picks up, getting a little heavier. “But once you get in there and the grief begins to settle, you’ll start thinking about the good times, and it won’t be so hard.”
“I really hope so.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Any extravagant plans for the holiday break?”
“Nah. Just chilling at home with the boyfriend,” he says as disappointment clutches onto me like a bad rash. Shit. He’s got a boyfriend. Why the hell didn’t I see that coming? “I, uhhh . . . can you keep a secret?”
“Ohhhh, a secret?” I ask, chirping right back up. “I love a good secret.”
“But can you keep them?” Oxley prompts.
I make a show of zipping my lips and locking them with a key. “Best secret keeper in town,” I promise.
Oxley eyes me warily, studying me a little too closely for comfort before clearly deciding he can trust me. He reaches over to my side of the truck and opens the glove box in front of my knees. Then while keeping his eyes locked on the snowy road, he feels around inside the glove box before finally pulling out a small velvet box.
“Check it out,” he says, handing me the box.
My brows furrow, my heart already racing for what I think is inside, and I slowly open it, finding a silver engagement band. A wide smile spreads across my face. “HOLY SHIT!” I screech. “You’re proposing?”
Oxley grins right back and nods. “That’s the plan,” he says. “I’m hoping to pop the question on Christmas. Or maybe Christmas Eve. I haven’t really decided yet.”
“Oooh, Christmas Eve would be nice. You could do a romantic candlelit dinner and then you have all of Christmas Day to share it with your families, and then you won’t need to spend all of Christmas Day shitting yourself with nerves.”
“That’s a very good point,” he says before launching into the many ideas he’s had and asking every bit of advice—not that I’m really the right person to be asking. Apart from Nick, the only real romance I’ve ever experienced is in movies and books.
We’re just driving past the big Welcome to Blushing sign when Oxley glances back at me. “Where am I dropping you?”
“Do you know the old Wilder place?” I ask rather than giving a physical address because as a general rule, everybody knows everybody around here, and if they don’t, they’re new.
“Sure do. I’ve had my ass handed to me by Olivia on more than enough—wait,” he says, swinging his stare back to me, his brows arched with curiosity. “You’re that Blair? Olivia’s granddaughter who took off to the big city. The Blair I used to hear about every time she faked a plumbing issue just to get someone over to her place so she could cook a meal and eat with someone?”
A fond smile spreads across my face at the same time a pang of guilt slices through me, realizing just how lonely she was. “Yep. That’ll be me,” I mutter, able to picture everything he just said so perfectly.
“Shit,” he laughs, smiling as though he knows something he shouldn’t. “You’re kinda famous around these parts.”
“Oh God. I can only imagine what Nana has said about me over the years.”
“Nah, it was all good,” Oxley tells me, mirroring that same fond smile that was on my face only a moment ago. “You were the apple of her eye, and apparently the apple of someone else’s eye.”
Jesus. I forgot how quickly word travels in a small town. I suppose everyone knows my business.
My stomach sinks, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and all I can do is offer a tight smile before glancing back out the window and watching Oxley navigate the familiar roads that I used to spend days on end running through. I suck in a breath, cringing as I peek back at him. “You know him?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Good point,” I say in a small voice. “But for the record, I’m . . . I’m not here for him.”
“Uh-huh,” he grins, the tension beginning to fill the truck.
“Really. I’m not. I just want to check out what state Nana’s house is in, put it up for sale, and get my ass back to New York,” I admit as we pass the local fruit market, and the grocery store on the corner. We pass Julie’s Dance School and then the elementary school that I absolutely hated. “Besides, I’m sure the last thing Nick wants is to see the girl who broke his heart all those years ago. He’s amazing and gorgeous, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some lucky woman scooped him up the minute she could.”