Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“We have those reusable grocery bag things,” Aiden says and opens the pantry door.
“You load up the groceries, and I’ll go see what’s up with your aunt.”
He nods, and I walk back to her bedroom and find her standing in front of her closet, just staring, as if she’s deep in thought.
“Are you okay?” My voice is soft, but she still jumps and then presses her hand to her chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay. I was in my own little world, I guess. I don’t honestly know how much to bring.”
“I’d bring most of your summer stuff,” I reply, stepping closer to her. “But we can come check on your place every week, if you want, so you don’t have to bring it all at once.”
She nods and walks into the closet, boosts up on her toes to reach a duffel bag, but she’s too short, and her fingertips slip off the edge of it.
Moving up behind her, I press my front to her back, reaching over her, and easily grab the bag. Her warmth, her scent, is like a gravitational pull that I can’t stay away from.
“Here you go.” My voice is rough as I pass her the bag, and I haven’t backed away from her.
Her breath hitches. She doesn’t joke with me the way she would have years ago. She doesn’t elbow me in the ribs and tell me to get out of her bubble.
No, Wills swallows hard, and her entire body tenses.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” I ask her. Shit, if that’s the case, I’ll stay away. I’ll do my best to go back to normal, to treating her like she’s my sister.
It’ll be fucking hard, but I don’t ever want this woman to feel uncomfortable, especially not around me. She’s too amazing for that shit.
“No,” she says, shaking her head slowly.
“Then why are you suddenly nervous around me, Wills?”
She takes a deep breath before she opens the bag and starts to pull clothes out of the dresser that’s in her closet.
“I’m not nervous. That’s silly. You’re my person, my best friend. I have no reason to be nervous.”
“Right.” I cross my arms over my chest and watch her for a minute, and then she skirts by me, careful not to touch me, and grabs some things out of her bathroom, then tosses that small bag onto the bed.
It smells so good in here. Like honeysuckles and laundry detergent. Like Willow.
I could bury my face in her closet and simply breathe.
But that might be creepy.
“Excuse me,” she says, and I realize I’m still standing in the middle of the closet, blocking her way.
“You may not be nervous,” I say, continuing the conversation, “but you’re not acting normal, either, and I’d like you to tell me why.”
“I haven’t been around you like this in a really long time,” she finally admits as she folds some shorts and tosses them into the bag. “I get texts, calls, and the occasional FaceTime, but I haven’t spent significant time with you, in person, in years, Ry. So it’s just different. It’s something I’m still getting used to. That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” I insist, and she blows out a breath.
“It’s just an adjustment period,” she says softly, and when I step toward her, she doesn’t tense up. She doesn’t move away. “But I’m really okay, and I’m not nervous.”
She frowns, as if she wants to say more, but then Aiden pokes his head around the door, interrupting us.
“I loaded the food into the car.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Willow says with a smile. “We’re ready here too.”
She zips her bag closed, and I lift it before she can, and we make sure the house is locked up tight.
“Hey, Wills?”
“Yeah?” she asks.
“I have to answer some emails. Do you mind driving back out? If you’re tired, I’ll do it.”
“Nah, I don’t mind.” She smiles and circles around to the driver’s side.
Aiden’s already in the back seat, his AirPods in his ears, watching something on his phone, when we pull out of her driveway and head out of town.
Andy’s emails are pissing me off.
We’re thirty minutes from home when my phone rings.
Fucking Andy.
Why have we spent all this time emailing if he was just going to call me anyway?
“Hello.”
“You’ve been avoiding my calls for almost a month, James!” He’s pissed as fuck.
I don’t care.
“But we’ve been emailing all day. I didn’t go off the fucking grid.”
“You know I prefer to talk over sending messages.”
“And you know that my dad died, and I’ve been taking care of my family and everything going on here.” I sense Willow casting a quick look my way. “The season is over, and I’m under no obligation to you right now. The team has told me to take care of things, and there’s no rush to discuss anything else yet.”
“Well, they’re starting to ask questions. They want a commitment. They’ve already sent me the paperwork for a two-year contract, with more money than the last one, and you’ll get to stay in Seattle where you belong. We need to get this signed.”