Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“No.”
“And the best part is, capacity on the patio is limited to thirty, so it has to be small.” The onions began to sizzle.
“It’s not the patio I’m objecting to. It’s the surprise. Also the party.”
“But Hutton, we’re not even supposed to know about it—at least if Winnie plans it at Abelard, we’ll have all the details in advance. We’ll know the terrain, the menu, the timeline—all the relevant details. Even if Winnie pretended Abelard had no available dates, your mom would not give up,” I said emphatically, facing him again. “She’ll go somewhere else and we’ll have no clue when it’s coming.”
Hutton grumbled something I couldn’t make out and took another swallow from his beer.
“Our families are happy for us, Hutton.” I softened my voice. “People want to celebrate. We know it’s not really happening, but they don’t.”
“I know, but . . . a party? That was not part of my plan.” He shook his head. “This engagement was supposed to get people off my back, not invite them to pile on.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He shoved a piece of baguette in his mouth and chewed grumpily. “When is it?”
“July 30th.”
“Two days after my testimony.”
“I realized that after Winnie told me the date,” I said, applying a dry rub to his steak. “I know the timing stinks, but that was the one day Abelard could fit us in. They had a cancellation.”
He brooded silently for a moment, watching my fingers on the meat. “You’re right. My mother is not going to drop it.”
“We’re not even supposed to know about it.”
He tipped up his beer again and looked at me. “Do you want this party?”
I flipped the steak and put the rub onto the other side. “It might be kind of fun. But I feel bad that your parents are going to spend money on it.”
“Listen, my mother has been trying to throw me a party since I was twelve and I’ve said no every time. No birthday parties, no graduation parties, nothing. She will not care about the cost.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Do I have a choice?”
I laughed. “Not really. Unless you want to call the engagement off before you go to D.C. End things sooner rather than later.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I can deal with the party. Let’s stick to the original plan.”
After dinner, Hutton had some work to finish, and I wanted to edit the photos I’d taken and create some content to post this week. We sat at the kitchen table with our laptops in comfortable silence.
“It’s like the old days.” I nudged his leg with my foot. “Sitting here working next to you like this.”
“It’s better,” he argued, tipping his chair back on two legs.
I laughed and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from my ponytail behind my ear. “How so?”
“Well, I used to sit next to you and wonder what it would be like to kiss you. I’d come up with all these crazy ways I could make it happen, then talk myself out of every single one of them.” He shook his head. “I’d think up tons of things I wanted to say to you—I’d even practice my lines—but never actually be able to say them.”
I smiled. “Do you remember what you said to me after we danced at the prom?”
His eyes closed. “Don’t tell me.”
“You said, ‘That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.’”
He groaned. “That is not what I rehearsed. I totally chickened out. Sort of like I did at your bedroom door Saturday night instead of telling you the real reason I was about to knock.”
I feigned shock, my mouth forming an O. “You mean you weren’t really coming to my room with no shirt on to see if I was thirsty? I’m aghast! You had me totally fooled!”
“That’s it.” He lunged for me, picking me up out of the chair and tossing me over his shoulder, heading for the bedroom.
“What is this?” I cried, hitting his butt with my hands. “Kidnapping?”
“We’re not kids anymore.” He entered his bedroom, where just one nightstand lamp was on, and tossed me onto the foot of the bed.
“Hutton, wait!” Lying on my back, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have to take a shower. I never took one today and I’ve been running around and cooking and getting sweaty. I won’t smell nice.”
Bracing himself above me, he lowered his chest over mine pushup-style and buried his face in my neck. “You smell fucking great. And I’m only going to make you get sweatier.”
I laughed as his scruff tickled my throat. “Compromise—how about you give me ten quick minutes in the shower and then you join me?”
“Five minutes.” He stood up and adjusted the crotch of his pants. “Go.”
I shrieked and bolted for the bathroom, whipping my shirt off on the way and slamming the door behind me. Hutton’s bathroom was airy and luxurious, with a double vanity and a freestanding white tub beneath the window. Next to it was a glassed-in shower with multiple heads and a multi-color pebbled tile floor. But my eyes lingered on that tub.