Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“An aura reading then.”
“No.”
“Chakra—”
“Nina.”
“Tea leaves?”
I hesitate, and she jumps at the opportunity, darting past me to fetch the teapot and fill it with fresh water before setting it atop the stove and turning on the burner.
“Just some innocent tea leaves,” she says.
“I swear to God, Nina, if you scare him off—”
“The important question is, why are you so concerned about me scaring off this man you’ve just met?” She waggles her eyebrows. “You got a crush or something?”
She’s teasing me, but I feel the heat rush into my face. There is something about Lucas Young that draws me to him. I don't know what it is. He's barely said more than a dozen words to me, but I feel like I know him. I feel like he knows me better than I know myself.
I shake my head. Now I’m thinking crazy.
Nina watches this entire thought process play out on my face. She leans back against the countertop and swirls her mug. “Be careful, sweet pea,” she says gently. “We don't know why he was locked up. He could be trouble, and maybe another troubled man isn’t what you need in your life.”
The doorbell rings. Speaking of trouble…
I dart past Nina to open the front door. There he is, his blue-and-green flannel tucked neatly into his slim-fitting jeans.
“Evening,” he says, and sidles into the living room, his gaze alighting on my face before dipping down to my shoulder. “Erm, who do we have here?”
“Oh!” I scoop Marcellus into my hand and hold him up for Lucas to see. “This is Marcellus.”
“Very nice to meet you, Marcellus,” Lucas says, a glint in his hazel eyes.
“You introduce the lizard before me?” Nina says, playfully, sauntering up behind me.
Lucas chuckles and inclines his head. “Apologies, ma’am.”
“Aunt Nina, this is Lucas Young,” I say. “Lucas, this is my aunt, Nina Fitzroy.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fitzroy,” he says, offering his hand. She takes it, looking intently into his eyes as she shakes his hand.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Young,” she says. “Won’t you come in? Dumplings are ready and cobbler’s in the oven. Oh, and we have tea!”
I can barely suppress a groan.
Lucas follows Nina dutifully into the dining room where a good chunk of Aunt Nina’s boho collectibles live. There’s barely a single unadorned surface, aside from the small, round dining table, set for three. Potted plants, doilies, trinkets, crystals, you name it, it litters every shelf. Still, the room manages to look warm and inviting, if a bit cluttered, like a crystal shop you can eat in. I love it.
Lucas takes a seat at the table, and I sit next to him, while Nina goes to fetch the tea. Because, of course, that’s the first thing on her mind: reading his leaves. Not feeding the poor man who’s just gotten out of prison, but invading his metaphysical privacy.
Then again, maybe it’s smart to let her do her assessment, as I haven’t exactly done due diligence myself. I mean, what do I really know about this guy, anyway? That he has gorgeous silver streaks in his hair? Arresting hazel eyes? Broad shoulders and a tight, round ass unlike anything I’d ever—
Jesus, girl, get it together. He’s a convicted felon. I blink at Lucas, and it feels as if I’m emerging from some kind of spell. It seemed like a good idea at the time, inviting this man into our home. But now that he’s here, at our table, I suddenly feel claustrophobic.
“Thank you for having me,” he says, his voice low and sonorous. “I’m very much looking forward to a homecooked meal.”
“Sure,” I say, forcing a casual tone. “It’s no big deal.”
Nina returns with her tea tray and sets it down on the table.
“Here we are,” she says. “How do you take your tea, Mr. Young?”
“Please, call me Lucas.”
“Aunt Nina, isn’t tea for after dinner?” I say pointedly, but she’s already pouring it.
“Says who?”
“I dunno, decorum?”
“Since when do we give a hoot about decorum in this house?” Nina flashes a dimpled smile at Lucas as she hands him the tea. “Sugar?”
“No thank you, ma'am," he says, taking the cup and saucer. He sips, and blinks down at the floating leaves with surprise.
“Those’ll settle to the bottom in a second,” Nina says.
Rolling my eyes, I take my usual seat and keep my hands busy by pouring a cup of tea for me and one for my aunt.
“So, Lucas,” Nina says, as I slide her cup in front of her, “why were you in prison?”
Is it possible to die from second-hand embarrassment? I cringe, my cheeks burning.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I say. When I finally muster the nerve to look over at Lucas, he seems unfazed.
“It’s not a problem.” He takes a long pull of tea. I catch Nina glancing down into the cup just as Lucas begins to speak. “I believe I already told Tatum that I used to be a foreman.”