Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
It's not even like things are that different these days. I'm still what my mom refers to as pleasantly plump. God, I hate when she says that. I want to ask her never to use those words again. I’ve come to terms with who I am. And I don’t even try to diet anymore—mostly because they never work for me. There’s not a lot I can do to change who I am. My hair is still icky brown. I still can't get the courage to change that. I've thought about it, but I can imagine my father telling me constantly how unnatural it is, and chicken out. I know I have issues. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to get any better.
Besides, let’s be honest. It's not like I have guys falling at my feet to make the change worth it. The one guy I dated, Keith Gordon, was a great guy, but I'd be lying to myself if I said it was the kind of romance that novels are written about. It was honestly boring, and that's why we broke up.
We had sex, but I rarely enjoyed it. For all I know, that makes me frigid. That's been a worry on my mind since that word popped into my head after a not-so-great night in bed with him.
I push the thoughts aside. I'm off today and wanted to come by, but I purposefully waited until later in the day to arrive. Mr. Monroe will have all the boys out working on the ranch today- including Ryder, and that works just fine for me. I want to avoid him at all costs. With a deep breath, I get out and walk to the back of Marilyn, opening the back hatch with my key fob. I reach inside to grab the gift bag. Its shiny metallic teal with matching teal and white crepe paper sticking out artfully at the top. It took me longer than I want to admit arranging it.
I grab the box beside it before heading toward the old farmhouse. I make it all the way to the front door when I realize I need to shift everything to ring the doorbell.
“Whatcha’ got there, Buttons?”
I scream, my whole body jolting as a voice behind me scares the crap out of me. I let go of the box so I can fumble with the gift bag and watch in horror as it goes sailing through the air. Ryder reaches out and snatches it, but he’s not gentle about it. His large hand presses down on the cardboard and I swallow with instant regret. I want to cry. I worked so hard…
This is his fault.
“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that? You likely just ruined your mother's cake.”
“Huh?” he asks, as his forehead wrinkles with confusion.
I try to ignore the little laugh lines that deepen around his eyes and how good they look. Instead, I point at the box in his hands. “The chocolate lava cake you're currently holding. You snuck up on me and scared me, making me lose my grip.”
Ryder grimaces. “I wasn't trying to scare you, buttons.”
“Well, you did,” I complain just as Tucker comes outside.
“What's all the racket about?” Tucker asks.
I look down at my feet, wishing—not for the first time—that I should've rethought my entire plan about coming here. “Uh, shouldn't you guys be out working on the ranch?”
“We should, but it's Mom's birthday, so Dad called an early day. We’re taking her out to the steakhouse tonight,” Tucker explains.
“Oh.” I’m not oblivious to how the Monroe men dwarf me. “I wanted to drop these off for your mom and wish her a happy birthday, but I don't want to bother her if she's getting ready to go out. Can you give them to her, Tucker?”
“It depends,” he says, making me look up to see the mischief dancing in his eyes.
“On what?” I ask, already laughing because I know where this is going.
“Did you make my favorite strawberry cake?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow as he stares at the box in Ryder's hands, making me giggle—and blush. That’s it. Monroe men should be marked lethal to painfully shy, overly fluffy girls like me.
I shake my head no. “Afraid not,” I laugh. “This is for your momma. She likes chocolate. You'll have to wait for your birthday for that strawberry shortcake.”
“Ugh, you're killing me, Tillie,” Tucker groans. “If Keith ever screws up, I'm going to sweep you off your feet. Just wait and see. Then all your cakes will be mine.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment even though I can't help but smile. Tucker is always flirting with me, although I doubt he's serious. He’s almost as good looking as Ryder and he could have any girl in town if he wanted. It still makes me feel good when he flirts, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. I like Tucker. We've been friends for a couple of years even though he's older than me. We always chat when he comes into the store and there are days when he single-handedly wipes out the desserts I keep in the store.