Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
I could easily see turning the little guesthouse next door into a quaint little shop with a few tables and chairs inside for anyone who wanted to sit by the fire in cooler weather and read a book or get the free Wi-Fi I planned on adding to the place.
I’ve always dreamed of owning my own outdoor garden café after seeing some of the best in France and Italy. And this garden, with its exotic color scheme and the picture perfect house as a backdrop. It was almost as though the place was built for what I had in mind.
Each time I think of it my toes curl and I get the warm and fuzzies in my tummy. It was all just so perfect. The absolute first thing in my life that had fallen into place without a hitch. Except for the passing of the woman I hadn’t even got to say goodbye to.
Not for the first time I said a little prayer of thanks that I’d been so blessed and promised to do everything in my power to make myself worthy of it. Aunt Nell may not be around to be proud of me, but there’s no reason I can’t do well in honor of her memory.
2
Joyann
As I laid there my mind wandering, it inevitably landed on something I could’ve wished it hadn’t. The only blip on my radar since the big move. It was too early in the morning to think about…him. But that was true no matter what time of day he crept into my thoughts.
My annoying tummy did that butterfly flip thing at the very thought of him, and I wondered when it would end. It’s not like we’ve spent any length of time together for me to have such a strong reaction to him. But from our first meeting it’s been like this.
Figures! There’s always a snake in paradise. Too bad mine didn’t fit the bill. He looked like every girl’s dream husband or bedmate. With muscles that showed beneath the fitted Henley shirts he seems fond of, and an ass that was made to showcase Calvin Klein blue jeans.
Devlin Monroe, a cross between a Viking warrior and a Scottish laird, seems so out of place in the little country town. With his tall broad shouldered physique, he stands head and shoulders above everyone else here as far as I can tell.
His jet black hair that seems almost uncontrollable and those arctic blue eyes in a face chiseled to perfection, would melt even the coldest heart. And damn if he didn’t know. If he wasn’t aware of his many attributes.
For all that I just moved here I’ve already heard the whispers. Seems all the women, single, married, old and young, had the hots for the heartthrob who’d moved here a little more than six years ago.
I’d only seen him a handful of times and that was already too many. Not that he’d been anything but polite, even when he was suggesting getting rid of my favorite tree, or ogling my ample chest which I could never prove since he was so good at hiding the fact the he was doing it.
It was just that, living next door to someone so perfectly put together, was like a constant reminder that I was not. All it takes is one look at him for me to start hating myself and wishing at least one of the hundred or so diets I’d tried had worked.
Then I’d get angry at him for being so perfect, which makes no sense and did nothing but drag me back to being that insecure little girl with the donut powder or cookie crumbs trapped in the corners of my mouth, because I ate my worries and fears away.
I was a long way from that little girl and had been for quite some time. I think it was those summer and winter vacations spent with my aunty. The only adult in my life, that ever gave it to me straight.
It was because of her that I’d grown a tough outer shell. Because of her that I learned to accept my body and the fact that we were all made different. She taught me how to love and accept myself. Maybe that’s why dad had sent me here in the first place.
Aunty had a brash way of looking at life and had no tolerance for what she called the ignorance of men. Unlike my stepmom, who is picture perfect thin, well coiffed and immensely cultured. My mom’s great aunt was a more down to earth woman who though not suffering from a weight issue, had more patience with the young girl who did.
Not that my stepmom was an outright monster about it or anything. But there were one too many times when she wasn’t quick enough to hide her disdain at her stepdaughter’s plight when in mixed company with her high society friends.