Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I don’t know.” She huffed. “The power has never gone out before.”
Great. Just freaking great. “Well, did you at least call?”
“No…did you?”
I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. “Do you have some candles? I’m not exactly prepared for a blackout.”
Josie nodded. “I do. But can you come in the house with that flashlight so I can dig them out? I had to use the batteries from my flashlight for something on my display.”
I mumbled, “Of course you did.”
The inside of Josie’s house smelled like a bakery. I shined the light into the kitchen. “Were you making cookies or something?”
“Chocolate chip and pumpkin oatmeal raisin. You want one?”
Considering I was salivating at the smell, and my plans had been to use electricity to microwave a frozen dinner later, it didn’t seem wise to pass up the offer. “Sure.”
“Can you point that flashlight at the table, please? It’s to your right.”
I moved the light that direction, and my eyes went wide. “How many freaking cookies did you make?” There had to be at least a dozen trays lined up on her table, each one with a heaping mound of cookies wrapped in cellophane.
She peeled back the wrapping on one of the trays and slipped out two cookies. Passing them to me, she said, “I made eighteen dozen. Last year I made fifteen on the first night, and I ran out an hour before the end of the evening.”
“Jesus, I figured you got traffic, but not those kind of numbers. I didn’t think there were a hundred-and-eighty people left in this part of Westhampton Beach.”
She smiled. “I teach third grade in East Hampton. A lot of my students come—some are in college now and still come back every year.”
I bit into one of the cookies. “Damn. These are good. I guess if I had a teacher who looked like you and made shit that tasted like this, I’d probably still be coming back at my age.”
Even with only the light from the flashlight, I could see Josie blush. That surprised me; she had to be used to compliments with the way she looked.
“Umm…my candles should be in the top drawer of the sideboard in the dining room,” she said. “Follow me with your flashlight.”
She pulled a bunch of candles from a drawer, and then walked to the mantel over the fireplace and grabbed a lighter. After lighting a few candles around the room, she handed me two unlit ones.
“Here you go. These are from Thanksgiving, so they might smell like pumpkin or spices.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
The flicker of the candle she held in her hand caught the blue of her eyes, and damn, her eyes were gorgeous. I forced my gaze elsewhere and nodded toward the door. “I’ll, uh, head back over to my place and give the power company a call.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll call and report the power outage, too.”
Three hours later, I called the electric company a second time to see if they had an ETA on restoring service, but they still had no clue. I really needed to get some work done. My truck had an outlet, so I figured I’d go sit in the car to charge my laptop enough to see where I’d left off in my manuscript. At least then I could write using paper and pen tonight. But when I raised the garage door so I wouldn’t suffocate myself with exhaust fumes, I looked across the street and saw two rooms lit up over at Josie’s house.
What the fuck? They restored her power and not mine?
How long had she had electricity?
Rather than start the truck, I marched across the street and knocked on Josie’s door.
“When did you get your power back?”
“Oh…” she said. “I didn’t. I have a gas generator. I went to the gas station a little while ago.”
I frowned and lifted the laptop in my hand. “Do you mind if I charge this?”
“No, of course not.” She stepped aside for me to enter and pointed to a power strip on the floor in the living room. “Go right ahead. Help yourself.”
After I plugged in and made sure my laptop was charging, I glanced around to see what her house looked like in the light. “I’ll be back in, like, an hour to pick it up, if that’s okay?”
“Sure.”
On my way to the front door, Josie called after me.
“Cole?”
I stopped. “Yeah?”
“Are you hungry? I just put in a tray of homemade manicotti.”
While I debated the pros of a good meal with the cons of spending time with a woman who reminded me of Jessica, my stomach growled. Loudly.
Josie laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Uhhh…” I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting at the dining room table. Since Josie’s living room didn’t have a lamp to plug into a power strip, we ate our meal by candlelight.