Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Gluten-free Pineapple upside-down cake, huh?” I ask, watching him attack his two scoops with single-minded focus. “How is it?”
“Amazing, have a lick,” he says, extending his cone my way.
“No thanks, I’m good. It wouldn’t pair well with my butter pecan.” I take a bite of my cone, let the sweetness melt on my tongue. “Where to next?”
“Here,” he says, nodding toward a small rock trail leading away from the sidewalk. “I’ll show you my favorite secret spot.”
I grin. “I like a secret spot.”
“And this is a good one,” he says as we duck under low-hanging tree limbs. “Not only is it quiet, but there’s loads of shade.”
“It’s so hot today,” I say. “I can’t believe Nana’s selling anything intended to keep a person warm in this heat. Even if it’s just a small part of the body.”
“Or not so small,” Parker says, glancing back at me as he ducks between two overgrown azalea bushes concealing the entrance to a pocket park. “How are your lady parts holding up?”
I huff out a laugh. “Fine. But we should probably stop jumping each other’s bones every ten minutes. At least until she has a chance to build up her endurance.”
He nods seriously. “You don’t go from couch to 5K in a week.”
“Exactly.” I grin as I glance around the park. “Wow, this is so cute.”
Magnolia trees create a natural cathedral, branches meeting overhead in a canopy so thick the temperature has dropped at least five degrees. Someone hung a garland of paper flowers between the trees at some point. They’re kind of soggy-looking now, but still magical. And when I turn back to Parker, he’s done with his cone and pulling a blanket from his backpack.
“You planned this?” I ask, impressed.
He shrugs, proud and a little shy, which only makes the surprise more adorable. “Yeah, I felt bad about breaking your vagina and wanted to do something special. But I forgot the picnic snacks. I got too wrapped up in packing penises.”
“Understandable,” I say, loving every second of this bizarre conversation.
Loving…him.
“That’s why I detoured by the ice cream place on the way.”
“The ice cream was great,” I murmur, pulse racing faster as I realize it’s true. I do love him. Present tense. This isn’t a future destination I’m on my way to. I’m already there.
And God, it happened so fast.
Maybe too fast?
Parker’s brows pinch together as he hesitates, backpack in one hand, blanket in the other. “But you hate sitting on grass? Even with a blanket involved?”
I shake my head. “No, I love sitting on grass. I mean, I don’t love it, I—” I break off with a rush of breath, the “L” word suddenly way more loaded than it was before. “Grass can actually be pretty itchy. And I’m really not a fan when it’s wet and slimy. But it’s not wet today, and that blanket looks great.”
He frowns harder, clearly smelling a babbling rat. “Why are you being weird?”
“I’m always weird.”
“Weird in a new way,” he presses. “A constipated-looking way.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not being weird in a—”
“Is it the dairy? We could go back to the bookstore. They have a nice bathroom.”
I let out an exasperated laugh. “Stop. I don’t need—”
“Parker? Leo Parker? Where are you, honey?” The woman’s shout isn’t close, but the panic in her voice carries.
Parker glances over his shoulder. “Was that Miss Eugenia?”
We listen. Nothing but birds and the muffled sounds of the festival, then, “Parker! Leo Parker!” Closer now. Moving.
“Yeah, that’s definitely her.” He stuffs the blanket into his backpack. “She sounds—”
“Worried,” I finish.
We push through the gate and the azaleas and jog up the narrow path, emerging onto the square just as Eugenia hustles past. Her big red hat is sliding sideways, and she’s clutching her chest as she jogs.
“Miss Eugenia!” Parker calls.
She whips around, relief and fear mixing in her expression. “Oh, thank God. Parker.” She grabs his arm, fighting to catch her breath. “Your Nana. We need to go. Fast, we—”
“What happened?” he cuts in, his voice tight. “Is she okay?”
“She fainted. At the booth.” The words tumble out between gasps. “One minute she was laughing, and everything was fine. Then—” Her voice cracks. “Rita’s with her. Someone called 911.”
Parker’s already moving, faster than I’ve seen him move since his injury, a panicked sprint I hope isn’t hurting his knee again.
“Thank you,” I tell Eugenia, before dashing after him, leaving the older woman panting behind us.
The festival goers have formed a loose circle near the adult section, and someone’s shouting instructions.
Parker pushes through the crowd and stops dead.
I grind to a halt beside him just as the circle parts and…there she is. On the pavement. Too still. A man in a Cardinals shirt is doing compressions, counting steadily while her friend Rita kneels by her head, tears shining in her eyes.
Sirens wail in the distance, getting closer.