Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“You are very naughty,” I tell Binx when he prances over to where I’m sweeping and brushes against my legs in a silent demand to pick him up. “Do you think they have cat behavior classes like they do for dogs?” I ask, only half joking as I pick him up and hold him against my chest, listening to his purr as he rubs his head against my jaw.
“That’s doubtful. Then again, if someone is willing to fork out a couple hundred dollars for it, my guess is there is another person willing to pretend they know what they’re doing.”
“Maybe I’ll ask July if she can recommend someone.” I smile when he laughs, then kiss the top of Binx’s head and place him on the couch. When I turn around, I find Maxim has taken over sweeping, so I wander over to the window, the ledge of it filled from one side to the other with plants in a multitude of different style planters. “You must have a green thumb. I can’t even keep a cactus alive.”
“Until this morning, I forgot there were even plants in here, so I’m guessing my housekeeper is the one with the green thumb.”
“You didn’t buy any of these?” I touch the leaf of one that is a pretty pale-pink with green veins.
“No, when I bought this place, I had a get together, and every single person who showed up had a plant, wine, or both.” He sighs. “I still have about two dozen bottles of wine in the pantry that will never get drank.”
“You could always give them out at Christmas to your neighbors.”
“That’s a good idea, but I don’t plan on being here at Christmas, baby.”
“You don’t?” I ask, and he stops sweeping to give me his full attention.
“I just put in an offer on a house in Nashville. As soon as I get a closing date, I’m moving there and either putting this place on the market or renting it out.”
“Oh.” I fiddle with the bottom edge of his T-shirt as his gaze bores into mine. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know I was moving to Nashville?” His tone and the look in his eyes state clearly that I should not say that I didn’t know.
“I knew you were buying a house there, obviously. I just didn’t know you would be living there full time.”
“What the fuck?” he asks, and my head shakes back and forth.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He lets out a deep breath, then squats down with the dustpan and begins sweeping the pile of dirt and leaves into it.
“It obviously means something.” I wrap my arms around my stomach, and he stands, then walks to where the box is and dumps the contents of the dustpan into it. “You can’t be pissed at me that I didn’t know.”
“I’m not pissed that you didn’t know. I’m pissed that you didn’t ask,” he says, picking up the box and carrying it out of the room without a backward glance.
_______________
WITH MY STOMACH tied up in knots I watch out the window, as we get farther away from Vegas, clear blue skies, Joshua trees mingled with shrubs, and rolling hills as far as the eye can see. The scenery is beautiful in its own way, but I already miss the greenery of Tennessee.
As we crest the top of a hill, I spot a house in the valley below.
No—not a house. A desert oasis surrounded by tall stucco walls. The multilevel mansion is all sharp angles, and from where we are above, I can see a pool that looks like glass and a hot tub with loungers partially hidden out of the sun under awnings. Multiple trees cast shadows across the green lawn.
“Is that your parents’ house?” I drag my attention off the view below and glance over at Maxim. I knew his parents had money, but their house has to be the biggest I’ve ever seen, and that is saying something.
“It is,” he says easily, and my fingers twitch with the urge to touch him. When he left me in the living room this morning, I stood there for a long time, trying to figure out what to do. But for the life of me, I couldn’t think of one thing to say to make things better, because he was right.
I didn’t ask what his plans were, probably because I didn’t want to know on the off chance they didn’t include me. It was stupid and immature and a dozen other things. I should have asked. I should have been brave enough to put myself out there, but I wasn’t, and now… now, with the tension between us, I don’t know what to do. So I’m pretending—like he has been since he walked into the bathroom while I was getting ready—that everything is okay. Like he wasn’t pissed earlier when he obviously was.