Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
It was me who’d missed something—the giant sign on the side of the road that said WRONG WAY, sending myself down the path to heartbreak and disappointment. I’d made it possible for Beckett to hurt me. I’d given in to the timeless lure of him, the irresistible pull of us, without stopping to consider that I might actually end up in pieces.
While I was sitting there, I got a text from Bianca.
Hey! We’re at the salon this morning starting at 10! Can you sneak away and join us for a mimosa?
I want to, I replied. Let me check with Beckett.
A moment later, he came into the kitchen. Across the room, our eyes locked, and he stopped moving. Elliott bumped into him from behind.
“Sorry,” Beckett mumbled, stepping aside as Elliott went scurrying around him.
“Mommy! Daisy is coming today!”
“Yes.” I focused on his happy face. “Are you excited?”
He clapped his hands. “I can’t wait! How many hours until three o’clock? That’s when Beckett says she’s coming.”
“Almost seven.”
His face fell. “Oh. That’s a lot.”
“We can play some gin rummy to pass the time,” offered Mr. Weaver.
“Okay.” Elliott looked back at Beckett. “But are we going to check the fences now? In the four-wheeler?”
“That’s the plan.” Beckett answered without taking his eyes off me. “But I thought you had to go to the bathroom.”
“I do,” Elliott said, scampering from the room. “Be right back.”
“I’ll go out with you too,” Mr. Weaver said, pushing his chair back. “I could use some fresh air.”
“I agree. Go get dressed,” Beckett told his father.
When we were alone, Beckett came over to the table and picked up his dad’s empty cereal bowl. I dropped my eyes to my phone. “Morning,” he said quietly.
“Morning.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Fine,” I lied. “You?”
“Okay.” He stood there with the bowl in his hands. “Listen, I want to apologize for—”
“No apology necessary.” I rose to my feet and forced myself to look at him, speak brightly. “Really. Everything is good.”
His expression told me he saw through my act. “Doesn’t feel that way.”
“Well, it is. Hey do you mind if I run downtown and have a quick mimosa with the girls at the salon? They’re all getting ready for the wedding together.”
“Not at all.”
“Great. I’ll be back shortly.” I took my cup to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher, then side-stepped past him on my way out of the kitchen, keeping a careful distance.
“You made it!” From her salon chair, Cheyenne met my eyes in the mirror and lifted her mimosa. “Cheers!”
A receptionist handed me a cocktail from a silver tray on the front desk. “Here you go.”
I thanked her and went over to Cheyenne, tapping my glass to hers with a delicate clink. “Cheers!”
Bianca and Blair, seated to her left, held mimosas too, and Mariah, on her right, had what looked like sparkling water in a champagne flute. I touched my glass to all three of theirs and we sipped.
Mariah giggled. “The fizz makes my eyes water.”
I grinned at her. “Are you excited?”
“Yes. My dress is so pretty. And my shoes have high heels on them,” she said dreamily.
“I can’t wait to see them. What are you doing with your hair?”
She looked at Cheyenne. “Some kind of braid on the top, right?”
Cheyenne nodded. “Anything you want. This is your day too.”
The smile on Mariah’s face lit up the room.
Cheyenne closed her eyes. “God, you guys. I can’t believe I’m getting married today.”
“Believe it,” said the stylist, pinning the top of her gorgeous wavy hair into a loose knot at the back of her head.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Her eyes opened, and her smile was radiant. “Fantastic. Like the luckiest girl in the world. A fairy tale princess.”
Blair laughed. “Good. That’s how a bride should feel.”
“Even the weather is perfect!” Bianca enthused.
“It is,” I agreed.
We chatted about the wedding as the stylists did their hair, and I finished my drink. “Well, I suppose I should get back. I want to get Elliott some lunch before I have to get ready.”
“Okay. Come over to the house early with Beckett, and we’ll steal another quick glass of bubbly while the guys drink whiskey and thump each other on the back.” Cheyenne wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “How are things going, by the way?”
“Um. Okay,” I said, dropping my eyes to my sneakers.
“Uh oh. What happened?” Bianca asked.
“Nothing, really.” I took a breath. “We just had a conversation that didn’t go the way I’d hoped.”
Cheyenne frowned at me in the mirror. “What do you mean?”
“A conversation about what?” asked Blair.
“About what happens after I leave. The other night he brought up my moving back to Bellamy Creek, and I told him I’d need a really good reason to take that leap. He sort of made a joke out of it, but I honestly thought he was eventually going to give me the reason I was hoping for. Instead, he gave me a job offer.”