Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
DEX
Emily’s out in a matter of seconds. I curl my body around hers and close my eyes. Aware I have to get up soon, I don’t want to let myself fall asleep.
It seems like only a few minutes later when an insistent ding, ding, ding jars me awake.
My arm shoots out, grabbing my phone and silencing it before it can disturb Emily.
She’s sound asleep. So still and quiet, I lean in to make sure she’s breathing.
No nightmares.
I hope it stays that way.
As carefully as possible, I roll out of bed. I glance at her again. She hasn’t moved a muscle.
Fifteen minutes later, I stop the truck by the front steps of Libby’s school and step out to meet her.
“Dex! Twice in one day. Lucky me.” She hurries toward me and hands me her bag. I open her door and help her inside, then set her bag in the back.
“Where’s Emily?”
“Home. She had a rough day.” I start the truck and carefully nose it around a car in front of us that doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to move. “I told her to take a nap and I’d come pick you up.”
The corners of her mouth twitch. Is she annoyed I’m disrupting her routine? Worried about Emily?
“Is she sick?” Libby asks, her voice dipping into concern.
Yeah, sick to her stomach after visiting the fucker who destroyed your family. But I’d never say that to her. I’m not even sure Emily plans to tell Libby about the visit. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Good.” She sniffs the air and her nose wrinkles. “Is that my sister’s night lotion I smell?”
“Uh, yeah.” I don’t feel like explaining I gave her sister a pre-nap rubdown. “My hands were dry, so I borrowed some of it.”
“Kinda girly for ya, Dex, but okay.”
I snort with laughter. “What am I supposed to use? Do they make grease monkey lotion?”
She giggles uncontrollably for a few seconds. “Maybe.”
Shaking my head and fighting off more laughter, I ask, “Anywhere you want to go before home?”
She slides a curious look my way. “Anywhere?”
“Within reason,” I warn.
“Um.” She snaps her fingers. “I know. The tea shop on Main Street. Let’s stop there. If Emily’s not feeling well, maybe some fancy tea will help.”
A warm sensation slides through my chest. She could’ve asked me to take her somewhere for herself, but instead she wants to do something nice for her sister. “Sure.”
The shop isn’t far and I slide into a spot right in front of the small brick building. It’s actually near the gym a friend of the club owns. Libby points it out as we’re walking into the tea shop. “Em’s taken me to self-defense classes at Strike Back.”
“Yeah, I know the owner. He’s a good guy.”
“Really? You know Sully?”
“I know lots of people, Libby.” I hold the door open and wave her inside.
“Huh, well, aren’t you special,” she teases.
All sorts of different scents tickle my nose in the shop. I detect floral, fruity, and so many others I couldn’t describe if someone put a gun to my head. It’s pleasant and a little overwhelming.
A long wall to our left is all dark shelves with large glass jars of loose tea. Libby’s gaze slides over them and she shakes her head. “I want to find her something nice,” Libby whispers. “Not hand her a plastic baggie of self-serve leaves.”
“You’re the boss.” I have no idea what I’d pick out for Emily here, but Libby seems to have something specific in mind.
She wanders to a display of pretty glass jars and velvet pouches with gold lettering. “Oh, this is perfect!” she says, her voice rising with excitement. She picks up a small purple glass jar with a bright blue and yellow label. “Summer in Italy. This is perfect! Emily’s always wanted to see the Amalfi Coast.”
“Really?” I wouldn’t mind taking her to Italy for our honeymoon. I glance at the bottle. “It looks pretty, but what’s it taste like?”
She widens her eyes like she can’t believe I missed something important. “It’s oolong with hints of lemon, vanilla, rose, and figs. She’ll love it. But she’d never buy it for herself.”
“Roses? In tea?”
“Trust me,” she huffs.
“Okay.” I glance at the display again. “Why not the big jar if you think she’ll like it so much? It says it’s a limited-edition blend. Might not be here later.”
She fishes in her pocket and pulls out a crumpled twenty. “I only have enough for the little jar.”
I glance at the display and finally locate a tiny black sign with all the prices in gold lettering. Holy fuck. Who knew tea could be so expensive? “Grab the big jar. I’ll spot you the rest.”
She quickly swaps the jars. “Oh boy. If I’d known that, I would’ve asked to go to Sephora instead.”
I press my lips together to hold in my laughter. “Maybe next time.”