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Still nothing.
That’s enough to make me get up and see what the bookshelf has to offer. Looking at the titles, I see that most are romance novels, and I’m not surprised by that. Jonas’s wife, Andi, decorated the place, and romance books have always been her thing.
I’m not sure that I’ve ever read a romance novel before, so I decide to give it a shot. What else do I have to do today?
I read through some of the descriptions and decide on one that is a boss/assistant type of story. I don’t know if I’ll like it, but it sounds less cheesy than the others.
Cup of coffee in hand, I sit back on the couch and dive in.
*********************************************
An hour later, my mug is empty, but I’m so enthralled in my new book that I haven’t gotten back up to refill it. I thought all of these romance books were just super sweet and cute, like a made-for-TV Christmas movie, but this isdirty.
It’s like porn but without all of the faking it and male ego. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve never been opposed to watching porn. It’s a good way to get my motor running, but this? This is better. It’s porn with a storyline.
Just when I’m getting to another super-steamy part, there’s a knock on the door, and I about jump out of my skin.
Who the fuck?
I set the book down and head over to open it. Standing on the porch is my mom and two of my sisters-in-law.
Confused, I have no idea why they’re here, but before I can ask any questions, my momma pushes past me, and the other two follow.
“We brought breakfast!” Jessie’s wife, Tracy, beams while she holds up a box of pastries from Dena’s, the best bakery in Tennessee.
“And coffee!” Jonas’s wife, Andi, holds up a drink holder with three styrofoam coffee cups in it.
“I actually made some already,” I said.
“This is better,” Andi sings as she takes each cup out of the cardboard container and hands one to each of us.
Tasting it, I mutter, “Damn, thisisbetter. So, what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We just decided to come to see how you were doing!” Tracy says.
I know they’re up to something, but I have no idea what. For right now, I’m just going to let it lie. This coffee is too good to ruin the experience with bitching.
We all take a seat in the living room, and I notice that my mother has been exceptionally quiet.
“Momma, you okay?” I ask, not sure if I want to open up this door.
But I don’t know why I worried because, in typical Annie Mitchell fashion, she puts on her best stoic face and says, “I’m fine, darlin’.”
Before I can delve any further, Andi and Tracy change the subject to something else.
Tracy looks around, “Man, it’s clean in here. You have been bored.”
“Just a little,” I say with a small laugh.
Andi now chimes in, “So, how are things going with Shane? Tell us all about it.”
“It’s good,” I reply, fiddling with the lid on my coffee cup.
“That’s it?” Tracy asks.
“What do you want me to say?”
She shrugs. “Details, woman! Details!”
