Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Oh, hi. Great, I was waiting for those. You can just leave it there. I’ll get it.”
“I don’t mind bringing it in for you,” he says. “But it’s not heavy.”
“Yeah, it’s no worries. Thank you.”
“Have a good one.” He scans the box with his tool and then waves and hurries off.
Lucy finishes ringing up the customer’s order and then walks her to the door so she can pull the box in and lock up for the day.
“I had a fun day today,” Lucy says with a smile as she carries the box to the counter and sets it down. “The customers were all interesting and needed such diverse things for their practices. I so enjoy helping them make their choices.”
“You’re good with them,” I confirm and close the book before me so I can give Lucy all my attention. “And they respect you, as they should. You know what you’re doing.”
“I studied for a long time.” She flashes a small smile. “This shop didn’t happen on a whim or because I thought it would be a fun hobby. I studied herbs and plants for years. I spent so much time in the kitchen trying to come up with the salves and tinctures, the drinking teas and the bath teas.”
“I’d never heard of a bath tea,” I admit.
“Water is powerful, as we know. And when you add the right herbs and salt with the perfect intention to the bath, it can create an intense spell. Everyone knows the benefits of Epsom salts, right?”
“Do they?” I ask and cross my arms, enjoying her.
“Well, in the modern world, they do. Now, add in rose and lavender and other things, depending on the intention, and it’s just”—she kisses her fingers—“chef’s kiss. And it smells good, too.”
“You always smell good.”
I reach for her and pull her against me, burying my nose in her red hair and breathing deeply.
“See? Bath teas work.”
Suddenly, she looks up at me. “I have an idea.”
“Yes, I’d love to join you for a bath.”
Lucy laughs. “Later. First, I just realized I don’t have a photo of you. None. Let’s take a selfie.”
“What in the world is a selfie?”
She narrows her eyes on me. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, I know that most of the time you live in 1692, but you move between both places. A selfie is a photo that you take of yourself.”
“Ah.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Makes perfect sense when you put it like that.”
“Have you ever had your photo taken?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge. I did once sit for a portrait when I was a boy.”
She blinks at me slowly. “Wow. You’re old.”
Now, my lips twitch. She’s in a wonderful mood this afternoon.
“How do we go about this selfie business?” I ask her as she settles herself in my lap and pulls her cell out of the pocket of her dress.
“It’s super painless,” she replies, waking up the phone. “Just smile at that little dot right there.”
“Must I smile?”
Her face whips to mine. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“What if I want to…smolder.”
Lucy laughs and then kisses my cheek. “Do whatever makes you happy. Ready?”
She holds up the phone, and I look at the dot.
She takes the picture.
“Another,” she says, and before she presses the button to capture the image, she turns and kisses my cheek.
“Aww, look how adorable we are.” She shows me the photo, and I smile.
“Precious,” I reply, enjoying the banter. “Do it again.”
With a smile, she raises the camera, and I turn her face to mine and kiss her lips.
“Nice,” she says when she examines the resulting image. Suddenly, she frowns and looks over her shoulder. “Did you hear that?”
I shake my head and follow her gaze. “No, what did it sound like?”
“I don’t know, just a noise. Must be the wind. Anyway, do you know what one of the perks of you not having a phone is?”
“I couldn’t possibly guess.”
“No dick pics.”
I blink at her. “Pardon?”
“Dick pics.” She sets her phone on the countertop. “They’re so annoying. But you don’t send them.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what is that, exactly?”
Her eyes dance as she drags her fingertip down the front of my shirt. “It’s when a man takes a photo of his fully erect penis and sends it to a woman via text as sort of an…invitation.”
“An invitation for what?”
Her lips twitch. “For sex, Jonas.”
“I admit, I’m out of the loop a bit when it comes to modern relationships. We didn’t date back in the day, but I have to ask.”
“Ask whatever you like. I’m enjoying this immensely.” She settles more squarely in my lap, rests her elbow on my shoulder, and plops her chin in her hand. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“Do women actually enjoy receiving those photos?”
“Oh, not at all.”
I blink at her. “Then why, pray tell, do men send them?”