Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I shake my head and finish rinsing my hands.
“Well, she was renting a place before she moved in with him. She was saying it was horrible trying to find something—let alone something that wasn’t overpriced.”
I turn off the tap and dry my hands. “It’s true. But it’s still cheaper here than in the surrounding areas. I just hope I can find a job that lets me still live in Kismet Beach.”
“You haven’t found anything yet?”
“No. I sent my résumé out to a bunch of places this morning. So fingers crossed.”
“Can you get out the sauce and toppings from the fridge?” she asks. “I forgot. I like to take the chill off them before we add them to the dough.”
“You’re a pizza expert, huh?”
She laughs. “No. Not at all. I’m a pizza hobbyist.”
“You sound like my kind of person.”
I dig around the refrigerator and find all the things she asks me to locate. My heartbeat settles. The nervousness that I had about coming over here magically melts away.
Originally, I told Brooke that I would pass on the whole pizza party thing and just grab a sandwich somewhere myself. But Maddox insisted that I not do that and instead walk across the street for dinner. I was worried it would be awkward. But it’s the Carmichaels. I should’ve known better. They’re the nicest family I’ve ever known.
I find the cooked sausage crumbles in the very back, behind Moss’s beer. I’m turning around to put it on the island with the other things when Banks comes around the corner—nearly running into me.
“Damn you,” I say, my hand smacking my chest.
He towers over me, his eyes twinkling.
My senses are overwhelmed with Banks. The scent of his cologne. The sound of his low chuckle. The slightest brushing on his fingertips against my side as he continues into the kitchen.
Shit. I blow out a long, quiet breath.
“There you are,” Brooke says. “Someone told me you were thinking about not coming.”
Oh, really? I lift a brow and watch Banks.
He’s dressed in a pair of worn jeans. Unlike a lot of men who wear distressed denim, Banks’s jeans are that way because they’ve actually been used. The material looks soft. There are dark stains spattered around and the pockets are frayed with threads hanging in the air.
It’s so damn hot.
His shirt is black and faded. There’s a slogan across the back that I think refers to wrestling, but I’m not totally sure. On the front, over his heart, is a logo for a sports club. Maybe. And on his head sits a backward Tennessee Arrows hat.
Kill me now.
“Yeah, I thought about it,” he says. “For like five seconds. Then I remembered how good your pizza is and that if I didn’t come here, I’d have to figure out dinner myself. And, I took pity on you, Brooke. I know you’d miss me if I didn’t show up.”
Brooke laughs. My shoulders slump in relief.
Banks picks up a pepperoni and tosses it in his mouth. His gaze lands on me. “What did you do today?”
I set the sausage on the counter. “I sent out a bunch of resumes. Fun, exciting times. What about you?”
“Went to the shop. Did some work. Did a little … oh, what would I call it? Preparation,” he says, smirking.
Brooke puts her hands on the table and looks at him.
“What?” he asks like he’s offended.
“What did you do?” she asks him.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” he says sweetly.
“Preparation? For what?” she asks.
“I did things today to get a head start on next week.”
Brooke looks at me but points at Banks. “When he uses that tone, he’s up to something. Probably something that’s going to cause a whole lot of drama around here.”
“No. Not here. You have nothing to worry about.” Banks snickers. “But I’ve been working on a project for a while now, and it just came together today.”
Brooke looks at the ceiling and groans.
“What’s wrong?” Moss asks, coming back inside. “Hey, Sparkles.”
“Hey,” Banks says.
I look between them. “Sparkles?”
Banks rolls his eyes. Moss, however, looks all too pleased to explain.
“Jess set a trap of buckets of glitter all over Banks’s house,” he says. “He deserved it. That’s all I’m going to say. But Banks sparkled for weeks afterward. Sometimes he still glistens in the sunlight.”
“Fuck off,” Banks tells his brother.
I giggle. “I’ve noticed that. He came over to my old house yesterday, and I swore I saw a flurry of sparkles all over the bathroom floor.”
As soon as I say it, I regret letting the words topple from my lips. Banks nods, biting his bottom lip like he’s all too happy to jump on the he came over to my house yesterday train.
Please, no.
“Come over here and top your pizzas, everyone,” Brooke says, oblivious to the standoff between her two dinner guests.
We all take a pan of dough and begin crafting our dinner. I make it a point to stand across the counter from Banks—just to be safe.