Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I smiled, letting out a sigh of relief and breathing easier at having been welcomed so warmly. I’d hemmed and hawed about coming to this gathering, even though Haven had extended the invitation. I was worried that she’d just done it to be polite and I’d feel out of place. But Faith had gone out of town with her boyfriend and Gage hadn’t asked me to spend the holiday with him—in fact, I hadn’t heard from him at all since last night, ever since the country bar and the amazing alley sex and the fake pedicure. And running into his parents. A list of happenings that produced a vast myriad of emotions, several of which made me want to put a pillow over my face and scream.
I told myself it didn’t matter that Gage hadn’t asked me to do something tonight, after all, he probably didn’t have any time to party considering he was moving continents in a week and a half. Or, he was spending it with his parents.
His parents. Ugh. The memory of the way he’d practically shuddered under his father’s obvious disapproval the night before kept flashing in my mind and I couldn’t stop remembering the way I’d felt so low as I’d stood there like a dirty secret. Which, to be fair, I’d partially created by lying about who I actually was. We’d both been quiet as Gage had driven me home, both of us lost in our own thoughts. He’d kissed me gently at the curb and looked like he’d wanted to come in. But I’d been exhausted from the bull riding and the drinking and again, the amazing alley sex. And I’d been troubled by the run-in with his parents too and so I’d told him good night and then gotten out of the car before I could change my mind.
But earlier, I’d found myself sitting and sulking in Faith’s guest room and decided it was in my best mental-health interest to get out and distract myself.
Haven led me around the barn to where string lights twinkled everywhere, and a bonfire danced merrily at the edge of the orchard, folding chairs placed around it, several of which were occupied. “This is our crew,” she said, setting the cupcakes on a table that held snacks and drinks and waving her arm toward the two women and one man chatting at the fire. “Betty, Burt, and Cricket.”
We walked toward them together. “Hi. Nice to meet you. Oh, please don’t get up,” I said, when the man who was clearly blind picked up a white cane and began to stand. Instead, I took the few steps over to him and reached down and shook his hand, and then shook the hand of the woman standing next to him.
“Hi, dear,” the woman with the poof of blond curls said. “It’s so nice to meet you. My goodness, your eyes are…” She frowned and began blinking rapidly and I brought my head back, alarmed and worried she was suddenly choking, or having a medical event.
But the other three, rather than tending to her, leaned toward me and peered into my face. “Beautiful,” Haven said.
“Stunning!” the woman named Cricket with the wide smile, freckled nose and wearing overalls blurted.
“Exquisite,” the man named Burt said with conviction, his blind gaze focused somewhere just beyond my shoulder.
“Yes, exquisite. Oh, your eyes are exquisite,” Betty said, bringing her hands together and breathing out as if in relief.
“Er, thank you, Betty,” I said. “And…everyone.” Well, that was odd.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Cricket said as she pumped my hand exuberantly. “There’s plenty of hooch if you’d like some.”
Hooch? “Oh, uh, okay, thank you,” I said. “As long as you have enough.”
Haven let out a small laugh. “There’s always plenty of hooch.” She leaned in conspiratorially as she led me away. “Be careful, though—it packs a punch. And I do mean that. Drink too much and you’ll feel like you’ve gone a few rounds with a UFC champion. Ask me how I know.”
“Go easy on the hooch. Noted.”
“Trav,” she called, and a tall, handsome man holding a baby and flanked by two young boys carrying armfuls of what looked like consumer-grade fireworks, said something to the kids—who were obviously identical twins—and then walked over to us. “This is Rory Castle,” Haven said. “Rescuer of baby raccoons. Rory, this is my husband Travis Hale.”
“Ah,” he said, handing the baby boy to Haven and taking my hand. He squinted slightly, and I saw curiosity in his golden-brown gaze as he assessed me. “The woman who inspired Gage Buchanan to go running through the tennis club with two critters on his head.” He grinned. “The whole town is talking about it. It’s very nice to meet you.”
I let out a breathy laugh that turned into a wince. God, I hadn’t even considered what Gage had been doing, other than summoning help, as I’d been sobbing on the side of the road over the mother raccoon. I hadn’t realized he’d been making a spectacle of himself in front of the whole community. For me. “Travis,” I said. “It’s so good to meet you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart—both of you—for what you did with the cat…and the…raccoons…It was very kind.”