Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Among the clothes Jacky-Ann left me on my bed, folded up nice and neatly, are my pajamas. I nod appreciatively as I gather them up to store them away—until I feel a strange sort of papery texture underneath them. Confused, I turn over the clothes and inspect the pajama pants. A small scrap of white paper sticks to the ass pocket. My first guess is that someone’s receipt must have gotten into the wash and stuck to my clothes. I peel the scrap of paper away … only to discover more scraps inside the pocket itself. What is this?
Then it hits me: “Jimmy’s vows,” I mutter, horrified.
The once-neatly-folded paper is in shreds.
The ink, smeared and smudged.
His wedding vows—destroyed.
I drop onto the edge of the bed in shock, the shreds of paper sitting on my palm. I forgot all about this slip of paper. Stuffed it away, thinking I would pass it through Nadine back to its owner in the morning, barely giving it another thought.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think my only purpose coming into town was to ruin this wedding, whether I truly wanted to or not. I nearly took down the Strong family Christmas tree. I put Jimmy’s vows through the washing machine thanks to the ass pocket of my pajama pants. What’s next? Set fire to the wedding venue? Doesn’t seem so unlikely.
A boom of thunder shaking the window answers me. The rain blasts against the glass like tiny little knives, all aimed for me.
Maybe I really am cursed.
It’s early evening, about six o’clock, when I’ve showered and dressed for the dinner. I glance at the red scarf still hanging over the back of the reading chair, wondering if I should toss it around my neck for good measure. It’s raining. It’s seasonal. It feels right.
And it doesn’t really go with my outfit.
Who cares? Some strange voice says that in my head. Just do it. Wear whatever you want. You don’t gotta explain it to anyone.
Who this voice is, I don’t know.
But it sounds suspiciously similar to a certain vet tech I know.
I grab the scarf, toss it around my neck, then head out.
It’s still storming when Cole’s shiny car—now made shinier by the rain—pulls up to the front porch. The Strongs already headed out early with my father, so I’m left to lock the front door on my way out. Cole hops out of the car with an umbrella, which he holds over me like a gentleman as he walks me from the porch to the passenger side door. I don’t deserve this princely treatment, but I take it, and soon, we’re heading off the property.
“You look really great tonight, Malcolm.”
I glance his way distractedly. He’s wearing a simple dress shirt that somehow looks like a thousand dollars on him, complete with gray pinstripe slacks and a belt. Of course, he’s every bit as good-looking and handsome as he always is. How can I expect anything less from Mr. Perfection?
Damn it, I’ve adopted Samuel’s mocking name for him.
“You, too,” I tell him.
He makes one of his million-dollar funny faces. “I know this … was probably sprung on you a little. Me being your plus-one. Trust me, I didn’t put Nadine up to this.”
“You don’t want to be my plus-one?”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” He lets out a cute laugh that sounds like music. Of course. “I’m proud to be your plus-one. I just hope it’s what you wanted, too.”
“It is,” I assure him.
“Is it?” he returns.
I wonder if there was doubt in my voice. “Yes.” Wait. Is there still doubt in my voice? Why did I just make ‘yes’ sound like two syllables? “Yes, Cole. Yes, it is what I want.”
He smiles, his eyes never leaving the road. “Great. I think we can make tonight fun, you know? No pressure. Just a nice dinner. Support our friends and family. I mean, Jimmy and Bobby are sort of my boss now, I guess, but I like to consider them friends.”
I look at him. “Boss?”
“Remember? Yesterday? When we visited their gym?” He lets out another small laugh. “I told you. It’s why we went inside and I got to show you that secret room behind the rock wall.”
Yesterday was a big blur. My focus faded in and out like a bad camera. Did he really tell me that? I still don’t remember that at all. “Oh … right. Slipped my mind.”
“It’s okay. You probably have a lot on said mind. Besides, a lot happened yesterday.”
I stare out the window, watching the dark farmlands light up when the sky flashes blue and white.
Yeah. A lot happened yesterday.
And last night.
“Y’know what, Malcolm? I was thinking, maybe later after the dinner, I could take you out to a movie or something. How does that sound? There’s this cute holiday romance playing. Rom-com sort of thing with what’s-her-name, that zany older lady from that funny movie we were talking about yesterday. Shoot, the name is right on the tip of my tongue.”