The Bookworm's Guide to Faking It (The Bookworm's Guide 2)
“Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. “But I draw the line at driving you to work.” Another quick kiss and he pulled back, heading for the door.
I ignored Kinsley’s grin. “You might as well drive me. The whole town thinks I’m having your babies!”
“You will one day!” He darted out of the door before I could say a word in response.
“Wow. You’re already talking about babies? Considering how long it took you to get your shit together, you’re moving really fast.”
“Oh, wipe that grin off your face.” I frowned at her, but I was fighting a laugh. “We are most definitely not discussing babies. It’s not my fault I saw him with Tegan and my ovaries got ideas, okay?”
“I can’t take anymore babies, Holley.” She held up her hands. “Especially not in your family out of wedlock. We have ducks and old people to deal with. Don’t leave me alone.”
“Mabel is the ringleader. Tell Saylor.”
“She’s an enabler.” She paused. “Hey, maybe Dylan will be a good thing. He’ll distract her enough we can instill some order into the seniors.”
“Yeah, right.” I scoffed and grabbed my phone. “The only way we’ll instill any order into our grandparents is when we’re burying them. You know, in the grave plots they all bought that are in one long line in the cemetery.”
That’s right. Our grandparents bought a line of plots together, not with their families.
Kinsley sighed. “Oh, God. They’re going to buy plots for the ducks, aren’t they?”
Sadly, they probably would.CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – SEBASTIANrule twenty-one: you never know where the path might lead.“Think of this like an interview,” Saylor said. “How early do you wake up?”
Dylan ran his tongue over his lips and thought about it for a moment. “Depends if I have to drive to the stadium or if I can work at the training ground. Or, in this case, at home.”
“That’s a lot of variables.”
“Five-fifteen for the stadium, six for the training ground, and seven for working at home.”
“In the morning?” Horror flashed across her face. “Dear God.”
Holley sipped her wine. “People do wake up before nine, Saylor.”
“I don’t.”
Dylan fought a smile. “My alarm isn’t loud. I won’t wake you, I promise.”
“Will you often be waking up before the sun rises?”
“Most of Seb’s sessions are moving to personal training rather than physical therapy, so I’ll be spending most of my time in White Peak while his rehab is being done. We’ll do two sessions a day.”
Holley and Saylor both wrinkled their faces up.
I laughed. “That’s child’s play compared to actual training. We’re usually out there for hours every day.”
“I’ll stick to my books,” Holley muttered, dipping a fry into the dregs of ketchup that were left on her plate. “You run around if you want to.”
“You hike.”
“No, I go for walks disguised as hikes. And I only do that to listen to audiobooks.”
“That. Me, too.” Saylor pointed at Holley. “Definitely that.”
Dylan laughed and pushed some of his dark hair from his forehead. “Don’t worry. We’ve already secured use of the gym between here and Dartree Mountain for our training sessions, and I don’t work out at home. Only stretches before and after a run.”
“Well, at least I know my candy is safe,” Saylor said brightly. “My candy is safe, right?”
His eyes glittered. “Your candy is safe. I can’t stand the stuff you call candy. Unless it’s Sour Patch Kids. I like those.”
“Ooh.” Saylor winced. “We might have a problem. They’re literally the best candy in the world.”
“I beg to differ. If you go to an old English sweet shop, that’s the best in the world.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Have you ever been to an old English sweet shop?”
“I’ve never been to England, so I’m going to say no.”
“Then how can you make that assumption without any evidence to back it up?”
Holley’s grin was the definition of shit-eating. “This is amazing,” she whispered to me as they continued to argue… whatever they were actually arguing. “He’s holding his own.”
“It is pretty impressive. Saylor is strong-willed,” I agreed. “I wouldn’t have mentioned the room to him if I didn’t think he could handle it.”
“He needs a will of steel to cope with her,” Holley said, finishing her wine. “I’m opening tomorrow. I have to go.”
“I’ll open,” Saylor said. “I left early today. It’s fine.”
“You’re supposed to close tomorrow.”
“Crap, you’re right.”
“We can switch.” Holley sighed but smiled right after. “I’ll close. It’s fine. I didn’t have plans tomorrow night.”
Saylor leaned over and squeezed her hands. “You’re the best. I have a date.”
Dylan side-eyed her, lips pulled it one side.
“Now it makes sense.” Holley pulled her wallet from her purse and opened it.
“I got it.” I pulled mine from my pocket. “Are we still going if you don’t have to get up early?”
“As your personal trainer,” Dylan said with a grin. “I think we should go over Coach Kincaid’s plans tomorrow and run so I can get an idea of your fitness.”