Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
A meow from the other side of the room draws my attention, surprised to find a fluffy, fat cat calling out to Cora, but not being bothered enough by her appearance to make an effort to stand and come to her. Cats are funny that way. A dog would've met us at the front door, excited. Cats are entitled little things, having enough patience to wait until you're in sight to demand all of your attention. I haven't owned an animal since I was a kid. It's just not conducive to such a rambler lifestyle, but Kincaid got Emmalyn a dog decades ago, and I loved that little shit.
"What's his name?" I ask, thinking a conversation about a cat would be neutral ground as I walk closer to it.
"Her name is Petal," Cora explains, just as I reach out to pet the cat only to be met with a hiss and a quick swipe of her claws across the back of my hand. "And she doesn't like men."
"Clearly," I say pulling my hand back in time to watch three narrow streaks of blood bloom on my skin.
"She's actually Faye's cat. Well, she likes Faye better than anyone else," Cora explains. “Faye hates men, so it only makes sense that her cat does too."
"I never once said I hated men."
I turn toward the voice and smile at the tiny little woman as she shuffles into the room.
"Eddie Yarrow," I say, holding my hand out to her only for the woman to stare down at it like it's covered in dirt. "You must be Faye."
"Pfft," she says swiping her hand in front of her, a clear dismissal of my offer. "I'm not washing his sheets. Boys are gross."
She gives me one more once-over before turning and leaving the room.
"Ignore her," Cora mutters. "I'll show you to your room."
"She called me a boy as if I don't have a full head of gray hair," I mutter as I trail along behind her, doing my best not to stare down at her ass.
She's in jeans, and even though a woman in jeans is no big deal, it's the first time I've seen her in jeans, and the way the woman works denim ought to be a fucking sin.
"She's been with my family since before I was born. She has no family, and she has nowhere else to go," Cora explains as she climbs the stairs.
I imagine she doesn't see the generosity in what she's doing to help the elderly woman, but I don't have to have her explanation to know she's a kind woman. I knew in the first time I laid eyes on her when she was struggling to remain hopeful about her sister but also not to have too much hope because she was fearful of disappointment. She wants the best for people in her life and takes it personally when they're disappointed.
"I'm going to put you in the blue room. It has its own bathroom, so it'll be more convenient for you."
Cora steps to the side after opening one of the doors in the long hallway.
My brow furls as I walk inside. "This is the blue room?"
The walls are a soft gray, the trim a stark white.
"It was blue," she explains. "It was just the blue room for so long, the name kind of stuck I guess."
The room is plain by most standards, providing a bed, dresser, and night table, but the blanket covering the bed looks lush, like something that would make most people want to fall into it and go to sleep.
I hate the place immediately, but I know that has more to do with wanting to be in a different room, her room to be exact.
Those thoughts and feelings have no place in this moment, so I shove them down, finding it hard to hold my tongue and even harder to keep from reaching out to her.
I wanted to tell her earlier that last night meant something to me, but she shut me down before I had a chance. It proved that I had no business having any sort of feelings for anyone. I was sure she felt the same way, but she didn't hesitate to put me right in my place.
"Make yourself at home," she says, still standing on the other side of the threshold. "Dinner will be ready at six. Faye's room is right next door, but you don't have to worry about being quiet. She takes her medicine at dinner, and she's out like a light before Wheel of Fortune is over."
She's gone before I can think of a topic of conversation to keep her near, pulling the door closed behind her.
There was no way to predict that I was coming here with her, but despite that fact, I still pull a mobile scanner from my overnight bag and ran it along every surface in the room and bathroom looking for bugs.