Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “No. Maybe like … engaged.” My nose crinkles.
“Indiana! You can’t be serious. You’re involved with someone who is engaged? You’re not that person. I’m sorry, but he’s an asshole. A grade A asshole for cheating on his fiancée. Why would you do that?”
Because he’s mine.
“Speaking of marriage … want to know who’s getting married?” I don’t know why I’ve decided to walk this thin line, but it’s out.
“Who?” Hallie takes the bait.
“Jolene.”
“Oh god … that’s right. That’s what you said that night at Camden’s. She’s marrying Milo?” Hallie expresses the same level of detest I have for Jolene “Well, I feel sorry for that poor bastard.”
“Yeah …” My smile fades while I mumble, “So do I.”
After Hallie and I finish shopping, I change into jeans and boots and make a quick sandwich. Then I run to the barn to clean Ranger’s stall and the chicken coops. Finally, I take the eggs to Milo’s apartment so he can disperse them to some of the workers. When I open the door, my momentum crashes.
“Howdy,” Rae smiles at me while pulling a tray of cookies from Milo’s oven. “Get your car fixed?” She turns off the buzzing timer and tosses the hot pads aside before crossing her arms and leaning her backside against the counter.
“Yeah,” I say, slowly setting the box of eggs on the counter. My gaze slides to the table and the chair where Milo touched me. I shouldn’t feel like the intruder. Yet I do.
“Sorry for the brief introduction the other day; I’m Ty’s daughter. I’ve heard a lot about you from my dad and Milo. I feel like I know you.”
My eyes narrow for a few seconds while I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“Ty is in charge of your dad’s security,” she says with a little laugh.
“Yeah.” I return a slow nod. “I know. I didn’t know everyone called him Ty.”
“Well, I call him Dad. I’m sure you call Mr. Ellington ‘Dad’ instead of Fletcher.”
“No.” I fold my hands behind my back. “I call him sir to his face, Mr. Ellington to other people, and asshole to my friends.”
Her eyes go wide, and she releases a nervous laugh. “That’s …”
“Life.” I return a toothy grin. “He’s not my real father. If he were, I’d consider calling him ‘Dad’ or something endearing like ‘Papa,’ but if he were still an asshole, I’d probably reference him as such in front of my friends.”
“So, are we friends since you’re confessing this to me?” Rae asks.
“Well, any friend of Milo’s is a friend of mine.”
“I think it’s cool that you two are close. I bet you love having a big brother of sorts in your life if your relationship with Mr. Ellington is rocky, and you lost your mom when you were so young.” Rae turns and lifts the cookies onto a cooling rack.
“Milo’s not my brother.”
“I know. I just mean he looks out for you like a brother.”
“What about you?” I drum my fingers on the counter. “Is Milo like a brother to you too?”
“Uh … no.” She chuckles. “That would be a bad comparison.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
Rae glances over her shoulder, biting her lower lip. “Well, we’re sometimes … more than friends. If you know what I mean.”
My teeth clench, and I find a smile to go with my lack of enthusiasm for Rae. “I think I do.”
“He’s…” she shakes her head and returns her attention to the cookies “…not like my boyfriend or anything. Just more of a … companion.”
“Like a dog?”
Again, she shakes her head and laughs. “No. Maybe you don’t understand what I’m saying. And that’s fine. I probably shouldn’t be saying—”
“You and Milo have sex.”
Turning toward me, Rae wipes her hands on a towel. Her lips roll between her teeth while she nods several times.
Are we friends? Do friends tell each other when they last had sex? Has she had sex with Milo since he kissed me in my bedroom? Will he have sex with her tonight because she’s in his kitchen making him cookies? After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Is that how one gets to his cock as well?
“I bet your family puts on quite the spread for Thanksgiving.”
I nod. “Micah will spend the morning preparing everything before going home to have dinner with his family. We’ll commit a solid act of gluttony in the early evening. The men will retreat to the hearth room for expensive whiskey and cigars, and the women will sip wine in the formal living room while gossiping about everything and everyone. I’ll go to my room and read a book. So basically, if your family opens a can of Spam with day-old dinner rolls but spends an hour or two actively conversing with you over a box of cheap wine, then you’ll have a better Thanksgiving.”