Playing with Words (Boggy Creek Valley #2) - Kelly Elliott Page 0,76
her head.
“Did you get a lot of writing in today?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I did. I haven’t written this much in one day in a long time. I think I’ll be finished with the book by early next week if I have more days like this.”
“That’s amazing, Hudson! Then, what happens?”
“It goes to my agent, he reads it, and then forwards it on to the publisher. Then I wait to get the first round of edits back.”
“How exciting!”
I laughed. “If you say so. That’s my least favorite part of the whole process. Did you get the historical books in for your event on Thursday night?”
“I did, and Candace and I got everything set up for the kids’ event too. Candace asked to read for story time tomorrow, and a part of me wonders if she has something planned. She never volunteers to work on Tuesdays. I usually have a couple of kids from the high school come in to help me part time.”
“Does Candace not like kids?” I asked.
“Oh, she loves them. She just hates these events. It’s a lot to do, but I love seeing the little ones and how much fun they have. If it gets at least one of them loving books, then my job is done. Willa should be by with her son, Ben.”
“If I get a good word count in, I’ll try and swing by for story hour, at least.”
“That would be amazing!” Greer replied, the first hint of happiness in her voice since she’d called.
Quickly glancing at the clock, I said, “It’s late, you should get to bed since you’ve had a few nights of restless sleep.”
She laughed. “Restless sleep. I’m not sure I’d call it that.”
I smiled. “I wish I was there.”
“Me too,” she whispered. “Goodnight, Hudson.”
“’Night, Greer.”
I wasn’t able to make it to Turning Pages on Tuesday. I was too lost in my book and wrote almost from the time I woke up until I heard someone knocking on my front door. When I looked at the clock and saw that it was four in the afternoon, I cursed. I’d sent a text to Greer around ten, telling her I most likely wouldn’t make it since I was deep in my writing cave. She’d replied back not to worry, but I hadn’t heard from her since.
A part of me was hoping like hell it was her at the door. But when I opened it, I immediately frowned.
“Jean? What are you doing here?”
She smiled and held up a bag. “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some banana nut bread I made earlier.”
My betraying stomach took that moment to growl. “Um, thank you, that was very thoughtful of you.”
With a wide grin, she tried to move past me into the cabin. I made no effort to invite her in, nor did I move from my spot at the door.
“Well, I should let you get back to writing,” she said, stepping back.
“Thank you again for the treat. Enjoy your evening.”
She lifted her hand in a wave and made her way down the porch steps and back to her car.
I waved as she drove off and then shut the door. Rubbing at the ache in the back of my neck, I walked into the kitchen and set the basket of bread on the table. I hadn’t eaten a damn thing since breakfast, and I was starving.
Withdrawing my phone from my pocket, I sent Greer a text.
Me: How has your day been?
She didn’t reply back right away, so I figured she must be busy. When an hour passed and I still hadn’t heard anything, I sent her one more text. I didn’t want to appear to be that guy. Clingy and all that shit.
Me: Checking in since I haven’t heard from you since this morning. Hope the kids’ event went well.
Minutes later, I was still staring at my phone when it vibrated on the desk. I grabbed it.
It was a text from my father.
Dad: Looks like we’ll be there around noon on Friday. Does that work for you? Your mother has a hankering for some dancing. Is there a local bar we could go to on Friday night?
Laughing, I replied that there was indeed a local bar, and from what I’d seen in the paper, there would be a band playing this Friday night.
Dad: Wonderful! Why don’t you ask Greer to come out to dinner with us, then we can go grab a drink and a few dances.