Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
I close my eyes and shake my head.
Maren laughs. “You can absolutely come back out here. Adult talk is pretty boring.”
“Fine,” Lola says with an exasperated sigh, following us to the house.
A dark-haired woman jumps away from the window, hand tangled in the window blind’s lift cord.
“Were you spying on me?” Maren asks as we step into the house.
The woman blushes, her gaze ping-ponging between Maren, Lola, and me as she backs into the kitchen. “No. I was just . . .”
“Yes. She’s been watching the whole time,” a guy in jeans and a Missoula Smoke Jumper hoodie says, leaning against the counter while eating a piece of what looks like old pizza.
“Snitch,” the dark-haired woman says, turning and stealing a bite of his pizza.
He smirks at her, wiping her mouth with the pad of his thumb. She teasingly nibbles it.
I need to get laid.
“These are two of my roommates, Jamie and Fitz. Well, Calvin, but we call him Fitz. And this is Ozzy and his daughter, Lola,” Maren says, setting the rhubarb on the counter.
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Jamie offers her hand to me and then to Lola. “Did you meet Bandit?”
Lola nods with wide eyes.
Fitz gives us a quick smile with a “Hey.”
“Oh, the house thieves?” I ask.
Jamie narrows her eyes at Maren. “You don’t need a three-bedroom house.”
“Neither do you.” Maren retrieves a container from the freezer and peels off the lid. “Lola, do you want a cookie–ice cream sandwich?”
“Yes, please,” Lola says with wide eyes, taking one when Maren holds out the container.
She offers one to me too.
“I’m good. Thanks. Did you make those with the leftover cookies you baked?”
Maren’s gaze shoots to Jamie and Fitz, and Jamie smiles, while Fitz narrows his eyes.
“Um, yeah. No. I mean, Jamie made them into ice cream sandwiches,” Maren says, fidgeting with the hem of her T-shirt.
“Are you a real smoke jumper?” Lola asks Fitz before licking the side of the ice cream sandwich.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and clears his throat after swallowing. “I am.”
“My class took a tour of the museum.” She frowns. “But I didn’t get to go because I don’t ride in buses. My friends said it was super cool.”
“Get your dad to bring you sometime. If I’m there, you can have a private tour,” Fitz says.
“Tomorrow?” Lola looks at me.
I shake my head. “You have school. When school is out, we can do it.” I nod toward the door. “Why don’t you take that out back, so you don’t drip onto the floor? But make sure your hands aren’t sticky when you return to the shed with the cat.”
“His name is Bandit,” Lola says, pivoting toward the door as I open it for her.
“Are you stealing my house tonight or waiting?” Maren asks Jamie and Fitz, returning the container to the freezer.
Jamie shakes her head. “The house we’re seeing tonight is going to be better anyway. So you and your cat can have the tree house.” She pulls back her shoulders with confidence.
“Unless it’s not. Then we’re making an offer,” Fitz says, stealing Jamie’s can of strawberry-basil Aura Bora sparkling water from her hand.
Maren sticks her tongue out at Fitz and then quickly composes herself. “Can I get you something to drink?” She opens the fridge to survey what she has to offer me.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
She uncorks a bottle of wine and pours a half glass.
“We have to get going,” Jamie says. “I hope we can spend more time with you, Ozzy.”
I smile, and Fitz pulls her toward the door. “Me too,” I say. “See ya.”
As the door clicks shut behind them, Maren faces me, taking a sip of wine before setting the glass on the counter and resting her hands on the edge of it. “Something weird happened when I worked my last shift. The unfamiliarity shook me.”
“What’s that?” I ask, sliding my hands into my back pockets.
“I missed a guy.”
“Lucky guy.”
“Right?” She bites her bottom lip.
“I bet he missed you too.”
Her head cocks to the side. “You think?”
“Definitely.”
Maren makes me feel alive with every flirty glance and restrained smile.
“Will’s upstairs.”
I nod. “Lola’s outside.”
The tension is palpable. God, my hands itch to touch her.
Maren covers her face and makes a noise that sounds like the marriage between a laugh and a groan. “Sorry. I’m struggling. I don’t know how to navigate this.” She drops her hands and sighs.
“Navigate what?”
“These feelings combined with our living situations.” She tucks her chin. “This is embarrassing. I’m a grown woman. What is wrong with me?”
I glance out the back window before closing the space between us. “Tell me about your feelings.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “They’re not emotional feelings. I don’t need therapy. They’re . . .” Lifting her gaze to mine, she wrinkles her nose. “Physical.”
“Physical? Like this?” I feather my knuckles along her cheek.