Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I’ve known Lark since I moved to town. The first day I came to Betty Lou’s, he sat in the chair he currently occupies. When he commented he’d never seen me before, I said I was new to Alden. The next thing I knew, he was helping me move boxes and invited me to his house to watch a football game.
Our friendship is the easiest relationship I’ve ever shared. We both love sports, trucks, and the outdoors. Neither of us likes to text or use social media too much. We can go days without talking, meet for Fish Friday, and fall back to where we left off.
Despite his being my closest and only friend, I know Lark is puzzled. He wonders why I might see a woman for a week or two and then break it off, and he’s curious about my disinterest in relationships. Lark would love to understand why I change the subject when he starts discussing getting married and having a family.
But he never asks. And I respect him for that.
“Great personality,” I say honestly, because I can’t let my frustration with Lark’s questions unfairly paint Gabrielle in a bad light. “Breath was a little like pizza, but I’m not mad about that.”
Lark laughs.
“Good boy. Go back to your truck. I’ll be fine.”
I chuckle softly. “You know what? She was a little mean, now that I think about it.”
“That’s my kryptonite. I love a woman that can be a little mean. A little feisty.” He growls. “Sex with them is so damn hot.”
Taylor leans between us. “This is a family joint, boys. Keep the sex talk down.” She looks at me and lifts a brow. “Unless you wanna go out with my—”
“Bye, Taylor,” I say, laughing.
She groans and walks away.
Lark settles in across from me, waiting for me to finish my thought. Our conversation will return to Gabrielle, and Lark will keep digging until he finds the information he wants. My best bet is to take control of the chat and find a way to end it. But how do I do that? What would distract him enough . . .
Bingo.
“How did you find out about Gabrielle?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Della.”
“Oh,” I say like I’m surprised. “You talked to Della?”
Lark’s face reddens, making his blond hair appear even lighter. His eyes glass over like a cartoon character’s. If he sighs blissfully, I won’t be surprised.
By all accounts, the woman across the street is a knockout. Della is in her mid to late twenties, has a tight little body, and always looks perfect—there’s never a hair out of place. She jogs down the street, and every man outside raking leaves stops and stares.
I like her just fine. She’s simply not my type.
But she’s Lark’s.
“She got back to town today,” he says. “She called to see if I wanted to hang out this weekend.”
“Nice.”
“I haven’t seen her in a month. I’m probably gonna get off in my pants like a teenager.”
I laugh. “Where has she been? I haven’t seen her car around in a while.”
“She had a couple of contracts out of town,” he says.
“What does she do for work again?”
He shrugs. “I really don’t know. There’s not a lot of talking between us, and the talking we do is more about times and places.”
“But you had enough conversation for her to tell you about Gabrielle.”
“It’s not every day that a woman falls off her porch in nothing but a towel and you have to pluck her out of the bushes. Then she goes back inside with your shirt wrapped around her waist.”
“Della saw all of that?”
He nods. “She said you two seemed pretty chatty.”
Instead of answering him, I slide my wallet out of my pocket. I find my credit card and hand it to Taylor as she passes.
Lark raises both hands. “Okay, that’s fine. You don’t want to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Lark.”
He takes a wad of cash out of his pocket and slaps some on the table for a tip. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“I’m going to change the oil in my truck and put some shit up in my garage. The Weatherspoon job kept me running around for the last month. My garage became a drop-off zone for tools and materials. It’s driving me nuts.”
I take my card back from Taylor. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” she says. “See you, guys.”
“See ya later,” Lark says, handing her the cash.
We get up and head outside. The sun has slipped below the horizon. Stars twinkle in the clear sky.
“If you and Della get done early, come over,” I say as we reach our trucks.
“I’m going to do my best to make it take as much of the weekend as possible.”
Laughing, I open the driver’s door. “Understood. Have fun.”
“Will do. Try not to organize too much. It’s not good for the soul.”