Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“What flower do you like best?”
“Actually, I’m more of a plant person. I guess some people would find that funny because I’m named after a flower, but I honestly don’t really like flowers that much. Plants, yes. I love plants. Flowers…well, I could take them or leave them. Maybe that’s because I don’t have flower beds, and they don’t grow well inside. I like it when my cacti bloom flowers, so maybe that’s something.”
“You don’t have to be a flower person. Flower people are…well, flower people-ish. There’s nothing wrong with being plant-ish instead.”
That makes me laugh. Not just laugh but giggle. Shit sticks. I’m in trouble here. “I have one aloe plant that I got years ago, and it’s huge now and keeps giving me aloe plant babies. When I…when I leave, I’m going to take it with me no matter what.” It sounds kind of sad that it’s a plant I want to take with me and not an actual life form—what does that say about my life?—but Alden gives me a pass on that.
“And books? What’s your favorite book?”
“I love cats too. Just to be clear. I don’t have one, but I do. I do love some living things. I’m not one of those professional, cold, un-nurturing people.”
“I never would have thought you were. Believe me. You have too much fire to be mistaken for anything like that. The perma-ache in my balls is proof of that.”
“I’m sorry about that too. Did I damage anything? I took a self-defense class to learn how to look after myself, but I didn’t think I’d ever use it. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Literally.”
Alden snorts. “I’m fine. I deserved it. I’m sorry about that kiss too. I…I don’t know why I did it. I’m not actually one of those people that is comfortable with…uh, never mind.” He was going somewhere with that, too, the same way he was before, but he stopped himself, and I feel like asking would be the worst kind of prying.
To be clear, I want to ask. But I also know I should keep things light. We’re strangers, and even though we might be getting married in short order, we’re both going our separate ways in an even shorter order. I can’t afford to care. I can’t get invested in any way, especially not emotionally.
“B-books,” I stammer. “It would be a terrible thing to have to do, to narrow it down to one, especially for a librarian. Never ask a librarian what their favorite book is. You’ll be here eight hours later, listening to us going off on tangent after tangent, discussing the merits of just about every book that has ever been published since the dawn of time.”
Alden laughs, a clear, deep, manly sound that is like a deep brook, and I’m the one diving in, in search of the bottom.
“I should probably let you get dressed. I’m just going to go back to my room. I didn’t sleep at all last night, so an early night is probably a good thing. You, uh, you know where to find me. I think you can make all the arrangements for the JP and the marriage…and after that.”
“Well, myself and Granny, and probably my brothers too, but yes. We’ll handle everything.”
“Okay. Goodnight then.”
It’s not easy saying the words. It’s not easy to tear myself out of the bathroom, even though I know I’ve been in there way too long, and there’s no way I should have even been in Alden’s bedroom in the first place. Haywire, squirrelly wires or not, it’s still hard for me to leave.
I don’t know if I feel relief or a terrible pang of something that I can’t pick apart because I shouldn’t get picky and pick it apart and explore it after I leave.
I’m going with relief because I’m exhausted, and I’m probably still in shock over everything. That can do things to a person. It can mess with their head. It can make a person feel things they shouldn’t be feeling and do things they shouldn’t do, and it can obviously make them not feel things they should be feeling. Like relief. Yeah, just because I don’t feel it doesn’t mean it’s not there.
CHAPTER 12
Alden
“Strip.”
Okay, that was not the first thing I expected to hear my brothers say before the sun had even properly risen. Or at all.
I majorly didn’t expect to wake up and find them gathered around my bed, all wearing black suits—uh oh, why are they all wearing black suits, even Ransom?—holding a tux and grinning like a gang of grinning grinners. What grins huge and runs in a pack? That sounds like a bad joke, but I’d really like to know so I could make a proper comparison. As it is, it’s bloody early in the morning, I’m still half asleep, and I’m staring at the four of them through bleary eyes. It looks like Ransom has a double head; that’s how unfocused my vision is right now.