Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I won’t say a word.”
I went back to what I was doing, but I couldn’t fucking concentrate to save my life.
McIntyre was silent the rest of the morning too.
I felt like he saw right through me.
The entire ride north, Blair kept up a steady stream of excited chatter, expressing her gut feeling that she and Frannie MacAllister were going to hit it off, fretting about finding a place to live she could afford, and hoping when the day was over she’d be able to call her mother and tell her she’d been wrong.
“I just feel like if this job comes through, that will finally be the thing I need to feel one hundred percent confident,” she said. “Like all the pieces will start falling into place.”
“What are the other pieces?” I asked.
“Well, I have a one-year plan, a five-year plan, and a ten-year.”
“Let’s start with the one.”
“Okay, in one year I want to seriously reduce my personal debt and be in a position to apply for a small business loan so I can start looking for my own space.”
So she was going to spend the next year working her ass off. She wouldn’t have time for me anyway.
“How about in five years?” I asked.
“In five years, I’d like my business to be up and running. I’d like to be in my own home, married to a handsome prince, maybe even with a baby or two.”
Even better. There was no way in hell I was that guy.
I gripped the steering wheel a little harder. “And in ten years?”
“In ten years, I’ll be celebrating my fortieth birthday. And honestly, all I want is to look around at my life and be grateful for everything I have. Which is, I hope, a comfortable home, a happy family, good friends, a successful business, and some wisdom to pass on to my kids along with my recipes.”
“Sounds good,” I said, wishing I knew who this handsome prince was she planned to marry so I could find him and kick his ass.
“What about you?” she asked, shifting to face me on the passenger seat. “Where do you see yourself in a year?”
I shrugged. “At the garage, listening to McIntyre complain about his wife and busting Handme’s ass to stack the tires.”
She laughed. “How about in five years?”
“Let’s see. In five years, I’ll be thirty-seven. I hope I still have six-pack abs and a good throwing arm.”
“And in ten?”
Ten years. Fuck, I’d be forty-two.
Would I still live in my apartment? Would Moretti be married with nine kids? Would Mariah be out of high school? Would Beckett still be able to hit home runs over the left field fence?
What about my mother? Would she still be around? Would Cheyenne finally get married and give her some grandchildren? Would we all get together for Sunday dinners and talk about Dad and the old days and how much trouble I used to be?
I could picture everyone at the table—my mom, Cheyenne and whatever clown agreed to marry her, a bunch of their rug rats in high chairs or booster seats, or chasing each other around the table like she and I used to do while my mother yelled at us to stop acting like monkeys and sit down like civilized humans. The memory nearly put a smile on my face.
But the thought of the future did not.
Because when I looked at the chair next to mine, it was empty. I was alone.
I frowned. But that was how I wanted it, right? That was how I’d decided it had to be.
Alone was easy. Alone was uncomplicated. Alone was safe.
It didn’t have to mean celibate, although the thought of being with someone other than Blair actually repulsed me.
“Griff?” Blair leaned over and poked my leg. “Where’d you go?”
“Ten years into the future.”
“And? What did it look like?”
Lonely as fuck, I thought.
“Fine,” I said, changing lanes on the highway. “It looked fine.”
A few minutes before four, Blair and I arrived at a place called Coffee Darling. The sign on the door said closed, but when we pulled the handle, we discovered it was unlocked.
Inside the shop, I could immediately tell Blair would fit right in. It was bright and modern and girly, with black and white photos on the walls, a long white marble countertop, and glass cases full of colorful cookies that made her gasp.
“Macarons!” she whispered in awe. “Look how beautiful they are.”
A woman wearing an apron over her clothes appeared behind the counter with a big smile on her face. “Hi there. I’m Frannie. Are you Blair?”
Blair nodded and held out her hand over the counter. “Yes. So nice to meet you. And this is my friend Griffin Dempsey.”
Frannie nodded. “Cheyenne’s brother, right? Nice to meet you.”
I held out my hand as well. “You too.”
“Well, let me show you around and then we can talk. How does that sound?” Frannie asked brightly.