Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Sophie needs a firm hand right now.
I need to let her know exactly where she stands, conventionality be damned.
I want her to give up on this foolish notion that she’ll ever get away from me. I want her softness back, and I always get it once I’ve trapped her and she knows she has to rely on my mercy.
She needs to learn to rely on me.
So, she can’t go home tomorrow.
She can’t learn it as quickly from so far away.
Giving her space now would just lead to us going around in circles, and I don’t enjoy this path. I’m sure she doesn’t, either.
She’s quiet as I park the car and take her hand to lead her into the house.
“My parents are home,” I tell her.
Her gaze flickers to mine, startled. “Will I meet them?”
“Yes. When you do, it would be easier for me if you didn’t mention that you’re a little reluctant to stay the night with me.”
“A little reluctant,” she mutters. “What if I tell them I’m ‘a little reluctant’ about the whole of our acquaintance?”
I crack a smile. “I’d prefer you didn’t.”
She’s quiet again as I lead her into the house. She’s been here before, but it looks a bit different. Our housekeeper has already removed the Halloween decorations in favor of Christmas décor.
“Favorite time of year?” Sophie murmurs, eyeing the twisted garland of faux pine tree with lights and a sprinkling of pinecones and red berries twisted around the staircase railing.
I nod. “My mom’s favorite holiday.”
“Not yours?”
“Mine’s Halloween,” I tell her.
She nods. “So, you didn’t just throw the party to see a bunch of girls in skimpy costumes.”
I crack a smile. “I don’t need to throw a party for that. If I want a bunch of girls at my house in skimpy costumes, I can just tell them to show up that way and they will.”
I can’t help the faintest swell of pleasure when her nose wrinkles up as if she finds the idea of my having a bunch of scantily clad girls over distasteful.
“What about you?” I ask. “What’s your favorite holiday?”
Her gaze drifts to the pine tree garland hanging over the arch we’re about to walk under. “I like Christmas. I’d say Thanksgiving is my favorite, though.”
I cock a brow. “Thanksgiving? Really?”
She nods.
“I wouldn’t think you’d like that one. Big family gathering, lots of people. You must really like turkey.”
She cracks a smile. “That’s not how we do Thanksgiving at my house. We don’t have a big gathering at all. When my mom’s dating someone, she might invite him and any kids he might have over, but usually it’s just the guy. One time, one of her boyfriends brought his 12-year-old son—I was around the same age—and he was cool. He didn’t like to talk. He liked to sketch. We snuck out back while our parents were being gross together, went for a nice walk and sketched the pretty fall trees.”
“That sounds pretty chill.”
She nods. “Thanksgiving is usually a pretty chill holiday for us. We make pumpkin pie and homemade apple sauce. We make a big batch and freeze a bunch beforehand. It was my grandma’s recipe. Then, on Thanksgiving Day, we make turkey with all the typical holiday foods. We make a big batch of yummy dinner rolls and we snack on them all night while we watch Christmas movies. We watch the Thanksgiving Day parade in the morning and do some online shopping for Christmas presents in the afternoon, and then, after a nice relaxing day, we drag the tree box out of the attic and put up our Christmas tree.”
“Not a real tree person?”
She shakes her head. “I’d like to be. I know buying real Christmas trees is actually better for the environment—especially when you recycle them after the holiday—but, unfortunately, buying a tree from a tree farm every year isn’t in the budget right now. We’ve been using the same artificial tree since my mom got it on clearance in July when I was 10 years old. We have a container of those scent sticks to hang in it, so we still get the pine smell.”
“Nah, that’s an artificial smell. Gotta have the real thing. My mom loves Christmas trees. She practically butchers half a forest for all the trees she puts up at Christmas. None of them are up yet, but as soon as she can get away with it, she’ll have trees up and decked out with different monochromatic décor. Red, silver, gold, blue; every tree gets a different color scheme.”
Sophie smiles faintly. “How many trees does a person need?”
“To be fair, we have a lot of rooms.”
“Well, I hope you recycle them after you take all the tinsel and stuff off. Christmas trees have lots of uses once we’re done using them for the holiday season. They can help fisheries, be used to rebuild sand dunes and riverbanks, or they can just be chopped up and used as mulch.”