Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
"We should go shopping." Cosima pastes a smile on her face, changing the subject and her mood. "It will be a sisterly bonding experience."
"I'll speak to Warren about it."
"Warren, you say." Cosima smirks. "You're the only one who calls him that, you know." I have to admit that I kind of love that.
"He asked me to." Does that bother them?
"Of course he did. He's always been smitten with you."
"Smitten?" I burst into laughter. Smitten is not a word I would have thought anyone would call Warren.
"He is. It's sweet and good for him. I was worried." There has to be at least ten years between Warren and Cosima. "I'm sure you know he's, well, he's War. Not sure how to put it."
"I get it." That's all I'm going to say on it. How Warren is with me is special and ours. It feels as intimate as sex. If Warren doesn't want to show anyone that side of himself, I'm not going to be telling everyone about it.
Okay, I might tell Marks some if she doesn't murder me.
"Is everything okay?" Warren asks, standing in the doorway to his office.
"We want to go shopping." Cosima answers before I can. Warren's brows pull together; he's not a fan of this idea. "You can't lock her away forever."
"I'm not locked away." My protectiveness for Warren is instant.
"When was the last time you left the farm?" Cosima challenges.
Well, shit. I try to search my memory. There hasn't been a reason for me to. Everything is delivered here, and my best friend is online, so I'm not skipping down to the coffee shop to meet up with her.
"How about you let me worry about my wife?" I make my way over to Warren, lifting on my tiptoes and dropping my head back. "This means you want a kiss," he says right before pressing his mouth to mine. I love that Warren is being affectionate even though his sister is in the room.
"This is bullshit and adorable." Cosima huffs, annoyed.
"Is there a problem?" Warren tucks me into his side.
"Besides other people getting to have a love life and me being shipped off all the time?" Cosima puts her hands on her hips. "If not, then I guess there isn't one."
"I'll see about you and my wife going shopping. If she wishes."
"I do." I'm not a big shopper like Cosima, but it is enjoyable to see what other designers are doing, and I should spend time with Cosima. I have only scratched the surface of whatever is going on with her, and I find I want to figure it out.
"Give me time, and I'll get it worked out."
"I heard about the wedding dress situation. Don't be doing that with this." Cosima pokes at Warren. I snort a laugh, really putting it together now that he isn't a fan of me leaving the farm. He'd made sure that all the wedding prep was done right here under his roof.
“Time, Cosima,” Warren tells her again.
“Whatever.” Cosima rolls her eyes. “At your speed it will never happen.” She turns, heading back down the hallway toward the kitchen. “It took years for you to seal the deal with Tova,” I hear her mutter.
“Do you truly wish to go shopping?” Warren asks when we’re alone.
“I could use a friend.”
“I’ll be your friend,” Warren offers. Even though his suggestion makes me melt, he knows that’s not what I mean.
“Girlfriend. I need girl friends.” I dip under his arm, pretty sure he only lets me because when I do, I’m heading into his office. The door clicks closed a second later.
“You want friends that are girls?”
“Yeah. I have one, and I’d like my phone back so that I can call her. I bet she’s worried.”
“Marks.”
I brace my arms behind me on Warren’s desk and lift myself onto it. “I don’t think I care for the way you said her name.”
“How did I say her name?” Warren flicks the lock on the office door, making his way toward me.
“Very War business mode.”
“Do you know who Marks is?” he asks.
“Sit.” I point to the chair in front of his desk.
“Are you ordering me around?”
“I am.” I give him a bright smile. It works because he sits down in the chair. The second his butt hits the seat, I drop my smile. “Do you know who Marks is?”
“Not as much as I would like.”
“I thought you weren’t going to look into her! Isn’t that what you said on the dock?”
“I never fully agreed to that.”
Crap, he hadn’t.
“Wait, do you do that on purpose? Moving the subject along so I forget you never fully agreed to that?”
“Yes.” I open and close my mouth because how do I respond to that? He didn’t lie or dance around his answer.
“So you tricked me.” I wring my hands together in my lap. Warren’s hand covers both of mine.