Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
I close the door on my way out and head to my bedroom, open the door, and leave it that way, throwing the blanket on the bed on my way to do the same to the windows. I probably should open the house and let it air out while I’m unpacking my truck. Then, by the time I head into town to grab some groceries, the house will have fresh spring air flowing through it instead of the smell of a house that’s been closed up for too long.
Once that’s done, I move to the bathroom I’ll be using, open the window there, too, then turn on the water in the bathtub, something I really should have done before taking a nap. I’m sure the cleaning company uses the water, probably not as much as I will, a hot bath in the oversized tub, and when you’re on well water, this is a necessity to run, especially since that’s what I’ll be using as soon as things are settled. I look at the clock. I slept less than an hour. Damn, I really wish my body had allowed me to sleep a smidge longer.
As I make my way down the stairs, I notice the front door is closed and locked, a sign of Ledger’s handy work for sure because never in my life has my front door been locked when I’ve lived here. Shut, yes. The Florida heat and humidity are real, hot as hell nine or ten months out of the year. The seasons go from hot to hotter, to hotter than Satan’s butthole to cool with a freeze here or there in between, and then were back to hot. My feet hit the last step before I’m off the stairs, shock hitting my body like a cold-water plunge when I see the boxes set up nice and neat.
“Jesus, I do not deserve this. I’m an asshole. Every freaking interaction I have with Ledger, I become a bigger bitch.” I walk toward the boxes, my hand sliding along the top of them, then head to the kitchen, where I see my car keys are sitting right next to the key and keychain he gave me. The note beneath it is from Ledger. I run my fingers through my hair while reading it, heart squeezing in my chest, and still, I don’t have his number to call or text him to say thank you. I guess that means he’s coming back. The only thing I can do now is sit and wait. Well, there is running water in the bathtub that could go to good use. With that thought in mind, I quickly scan the boxes, find the one I need, and rip the top open to grab the body wash, hair clip, and razor. I close it back up to dig through the next box, finding a comfortable lounge set Nelle bought me as my coming home gift. The color compliments my skin tone with its light pink hue, and it’s got bell-style sleeves and flares in the softest fabric one could ever feel against your body. God, I miss her already, and it’s barely been eight hours. I head back upstairs, leaving the boxes where they are. My phone is in my room, after tossing it on the bed along with Mont’s blanket. I could call or text Nelle, tell her what I’m feeling and what Ledger did, but I’m not ready to open that can of worms yet. I’ll do that tomorrow when I don’t run the risk of him walking back into my house and catching me on the phone talking about him. No thanks.
“God, I’ve missed this bathtub.” Talking out loud is my jam. Others have a different vice, like going out and drinking, a shoe or clothes weakness, spending in some sort of capacity. Mine is talking to no one in particular except to myself. That and spending as much time outside as possible. I slip out of my clothes, drop them in a pile on the floor, kick them off to the side with my foot, grab my claw clip to bunch my long hair on top of my head, plug the tub since the water has run clear, pour a healthy capful of the all-natural body wash, another favor from Nelle and our time together, and then I slide into the hot water, allowing the warmth to wash all of my worries away.
6
LEDGER
“You look like you’re stocking up for the first time ever, Ledger,” Mrs. Marble states as I’m loading up the last of the groceries I picked up at the local store. At first, I was only going to get a few things to last her through the day and tomorrow, then thought better of it. There’s no food at all at Tulsa’s house. Not even a seasoning was left behind. She wasn’t going to be home, and instead of letting it go to waste, I had the cleaning service box it all up to donate everything to the local food pantry that wasn’t expired.