Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
My heart was much too soft to go through his pictures, reminiscing about certain things, like how well kept his beard was or the dark waves in his hair. That light-brown skin, the crooked smile, and those ocher eyes.
Luther was attractive, but his looks were deceptive. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he hadn’t.
But for what it was worth, I really hoped he was a better man. If he truly had altered his ways, I wished him all the luck in finding someone who found him worthy.
Twelve
Octavia
The Ravens won the semifinals and were headed to the conference finals.
Javier had to leave early to fly to Houston, which meant I was up an hour prior to his leaving to shower and get dressed so I could make it to the mansion.
As I walked in through the back door, I spotted him sitting on one of the barstools in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone. He heard the door and lifted his head. Wisps of his hair fell into his eyes as he did that. He was going to need a haircut soon.
“Good morning,” I murmured.
“Morning.” He slid off the barstool, pushing his hands into his front pockets when he stood. “I am just waiting for Jackson to get here with the car.” Jackson was his driver.
“Gotcha. No issues with Leesa this morning?”
“None at all. Last I checked, she was drooling all over her pillow.”
I laughed. “Good.”
His eyes lingered on mine for several seconds before he straightened up and said, “Oh—before I leave. I meant to give you something last night after the game but forgot.”
He made his way toward his bag on the floor in the foyer. After digging through one of the larger pockets, he pulled something out and twisted around to face me again.
“For you,” he said, handing a book to me.
Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler.
I ran my fingers along the cover, smiling so hard I felt like my face was going to break. I looked back up at him.
“Are you serious?” My voice came out softer than expected. “You got this for me?”
“I did. I . . . well, there was a bookstore in the hotel we stayed in, and I saw this book on display. It had your name on it, which I thought was interesting at the time—and I always see you reading during your downtime, so I figured you would like it . . .” He scratched the back of his head with a wry smile.
My heart pumped faster, and I couldn’t help shaking my head.
“If you do not like it, I can always donate it or—”
“No—Javier, I love it,” I said, meeting his eyes again. “I love it. Thank you.”
“So why did you shake your head?” he asked.
“Because there is a funny story behind this author’s name and mine. It’s not a coincidence that I have her name, you know?”
“No?”
“No. My mom named me after her, and it was this exact book that made her want to. It’s one of her favorites and the reason why she became a fan.” I huffed a laugh. “Apparently when I was born, I cried so hard she thought I could feel her pain, just like the heroine in the book.”
“Oh, wow.” He chuckled. “That is very interesting.”
“Wait until I tell her and Davina about this.” I giggled. “They are going to lose it. You know, this is sort of kismet. You had no clue that I was named after this author, but you got me her book.”
“Kismet? I have not heard that word before. You will have to forgive me. English is not my first language.”
“That’s okay. It just means fate or destiny. Maybe I was meant to work for you after all. And maybe you were meant to give me this book so it could all come full circle somehow.”
“Ah. I see.” He nodded, head lowering.
Wait. What was that? A blush? Wow. Javier Valdez was actually blushing.
“This is a really sweet gift, Javier. Thank you again.”
“You are welcome, Octavia.”
His phone chimed in his pocket, and he dug it out. “Jackson is here.” The phone went back into his pocket, and he released a long exhale. His cheeks were still tinged pink. “If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to reach out to me.”
“Okay.”
“And if Aleesa does not feel well, you can always—”
“Call Dr. Navarra. I know, I know.”
He forced a smile. “I will just give her one last kiss before I go.”
I nodded. That warm and fuzzy feeling was hitting me again. I cleared my throat as he left the kitchen to jog up the stairs, then made my way to the sofa with the book. I studied the cover with a goofy smile. I don’t even know why I was smiling. It was just a novel. I always received books as gifts . . .