Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Bennett laughs through his nose.
“Did you have any traditions in your family?” I ask.
“None.”
“Nothing? Really?”
“Nothing like that,” he says. His voice is colored in melancholy and his eyes are glassy, though I don’t think he realizes it.
Peeling the blanket from our laps, I climb onto his lap and cup his face in my hands. “We’ll have to start some of our own then.”
I kiss him, inhaling his woodsy scent.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he says.
I kiss him again. “That’s where I come in …”
His hands hook my hips, pulling me against him as his hardness grows. There’s hunger, greed in the way his mouth crushes mine, and my fingers tangle through his thick hair.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispers, lips grazing mine. Hands sliding beneath my ass, he lifts me from the sofa and carries me to his room where we make love like we’ve got all the time in the world—each of us silently aware that tomorrow is never a promise.
32
Bennett
“What are you doing here?” Astaire’s face is lit as I walk into her darkened classroom Monday afternoon. She’d mentioned before that the kids go to lunch from 11 AM to 11:25 AM with a twenty-minute recess afterward, and I was in the area, so the timing worked.
“I was at the bookstore down the road.” I place a giftwrapped book on her desk—an old favorite filled with Marcus Aurelius’ philosophy. “Thought I’d try to catch you for a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” She places her hand on the book but leaves it wrapped. “You keeping busy today?”
“Trying.”
“You haven’t been to the office, have you?” she asks.
I sniff. “Of course not.”
Rising, she comes around her desk and wraps me in one of her trademark soft hugs. I’m realizing more and more that everything—and everyone—she touches, she treats as though it’s fragile, the only one of its kind.
My hands cinch her waist. I pull her into me and steal a kiss. “You coming over tonight?”
She fights a smile. “How are you not sick of me yet? We spent the entire weekend together …”
“I’ve been asking myself that exact question all day,” I say. “But the offer stands.”
“I’ll be there.” She kisses me, quick, and steps away as a bell chimes over the speakers. “My kids are coming back from recess. Thanks for the gift. I’ll see you tonight.”
I return to my waiting car and tell George to take me home.
33
Astaire
“Excuse me …”
I’m at the grocery store Monday evening, grabbing a few things for dinner before heading to Bennett’s, when there’s a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I try not to choke on the sharp inhalation that overtakes me when I realize I’m face to face with Bennett’s brother, Errol.
There’s a woman beside him. Tall and lean, angled features, glossy chestnut hair, nude lips, a fringe of thick, coal-black lashes. Chic in every sense of the word.
“You’re Bennett’s friend, aren’t you?” he asks. “I believe we met the other night.”
I grip my shopping basket tight, with both hands.
“I’m Errol, Bennett’s brother.” He extends a slender hand. I meet it with my own, but only out of politeness. “This is my wife, Beth.”
I don’t know much about Errol, and if I were to see him on the street, I’d chalk him up to be a regular guy. Hipster vibes. Well-traveled. Beth could be an Instagram influencer with her healthy figure and naturally agreeable features. But Bennett’s words play in the back of my mind … he specifically said he didn’t want Honor going to his mother or brother under any circumstances.
“And you are?” Errol asks.
“Astaire.” I offer my name only because I’m completely caught off guard, cornered in the back of the produce section. “It was nice seeing you again.”
I try to leave, but they’re essentially blocking me in.
“Are you two dating?” Beth asks.
“I … beg your … pardon?” I trip over my words. Not only did her question come out of the left field, but I wouldn’t know how to answer that if I tried. We’ve gone on a couple of dates. We’ve been hanging out a bit. But we haven’t talked about labels or exclusivity yet.
“Errol said he saw you leaving Bennett’s place the other night with his bag,” she says with a casual shrug. “I just assumed.”
“You’re always assuming, aren’t you, babe?” Errol chuckles, one hand dipped in his tight jeans pocket.
“Errol and I recently moved back to Worthington Heights,” Beth says. “We’re taking a break from our travels and starting a family … would be great if the four of us could have dinner sometime? It’s been forever since Bennett had a girlfriend, and it’s never any fun being the third wheel …”
She slips her arm into her husband’s and gives him a wrinkle-nosed smile.
“Beth,” Errol says. “You’re putting the poor woman on the spot.”