Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I think it was pure stubbornness to think you could stay long-term.”
“It was all I had,” I said, shrugging.
“Well, not anymore. And you can do good anywhere. You can do good here. There are people everywhere that could use your help.”
“That’s true.”
“You could even open a coffee shop if you want to.”
“I, ah, I don’t think I want to,” I admitted. “I opened the shop because I could work for myself, and I’ve always loved coffee and baking. But I don’t know if I want to do it again. I don’t… I don’t know what I want to do.”
“Well, luckily, there’s no rush,” he said. “You gotta heal. Then you can sell your place. You’ll have that money as a safety net, though you won’t be needing it with me.”
“I always pay my—“
“I’m sure you have. But now you don’t. Let’s put a pin in this discussion until you’re healed, because I think the makeup sex will be epic,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Okay,” I agreed, relaxing back into him. “I need to call my father today. Check on Don.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, fingers stroking up and down my arm. “And if you’re up for it, I’d like to go visit Lettie at her office.”
“I think I’m okay. But I did tell her that I would see her again if I was around.”
“There’s no rush. Smush will be around in a bit, so you can see what she got you. Then call your old man. After that, we can go.”
“Then come home and have pasta.”
“Oh, baby, if there is one thing you can count on with this family, it’s that there will always be pasta.”
August - 1 month
“Where’s Traveler?” my mom asked when I showed up for dinner without her in tow.
They hadn’t actually met yet.
That was something that my mother was clearly unhappy about.
It wasn’t exactly intentional.
That first week of Traveler being with me, she slept so much that any time my mom dropped by, she was passed out.
I’d never seen someone sleep like that. I was almost going to try to talk her into seeing someone, some part of me worried she was depressed. But when she got up, she was happy and bubbly. I think she was just recovering from the events that went down in her hometown. And, to an extent, I think she was catching up on all the sleep she’d been missing out on for years.
After that, she’d thrown herself into finding local charities, and throwing herself into them. She was single-handedly working on an initiative to force the parks system to get a beach-comber to clean up all the litter on it.
She’d been busy trying to find her place in this new town, this very different life.
My ma probably wouldn’t have been so ticked off if she hadn’t found out that Traveler and I had gone out to eat with Aurelio as well as another dinner with Massimo and Cammie.
“She’s in her hometown,” I told my ma as I kissed her cheek. “She had a meeting with the developer today. And she wanted to see her father.”
“Oh,” my mom said, shoulders relaxing a bit. Because she couldn’t exactly be mad that the girl was spending time with her own family while I was spending time with mine.
“She wants to meet you, Ma,” I assured her. “She just wanted to heal up first. She was planning on coming tonight. But this developer thing is kind of important.”
It was the last thing.
She’d gone back to visit with her father and uncles.
Don had some complications after surgery, but he was finally home with his wife and kids. And a shiny new story about what had happened to him. One that didn’t involve being a dirty cop. Or implicating his friends either.
As for James, he’d done what he set out to do. None of us had any doubts on that front. The man was clearly a force to be reckoned with. He cleaned up his city. He got his control back.
Tranq would make its way back, but for the time being, his town was clear of it.
As for Stan, well, he was officially a missing person.
My money was on him never being found.
Sheryl’s reputation in the town was ruined as she was exposed for the criminal she was.
Traveler said that the same developer that was buying her place had already bought Sheryl’s farm.
Apparently Chuck and her old man had stopped by the farm, picking all the produce left, and dropping it off at the soup kitchen.
They weren’t good men. But they weren’t bad either.
They existed in some gray area between.
The same could be said of me and mine, I guess.
“So, she is selling?” my mom asked, hope clear in her voice.
Clearly, my ma was already hearing wedding bells and thinking of baby booties. She was unabashedly obsessed with the idea of more grandbabies.