that settled, tell me why you called me.” Tori speared a piece of scrambled egg and slid it into her mouth. It was deliciousness, full of butter and salt.
“I got a call from the dress shop. They need us there an hour earlier. I wanted to make sure you could still make it. I know you have other plans while you are here,” Ginnifer explained.
“Nothing I can’t postpone until later on today. So we need to be there at ten instead?”
“Yes”
“Okay I’ll plan on seeing you a little bit earlier. Maybe we will finish in time for lunch.”
“Count on it. I’m sure I’ll be starving by the time we are done,” Ginny exclaimed. “I will be in desperate need of an extensive and drawn-out meal with my best friend.”
“Is that a subtle reference to your very active sex life?”
“Of course not—Okay maybe a little.” Ginnifer sighed. “I miss you, and I want to spend time with you. I’m looking forward to seeing you later, but now I’ve got to get ready to leave. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye Ginny.” Tori pressed End and settled in to finish her breakfast. She had a lot less time to get things done than she anticipated. The important stuff was already done though. Alison was on board to move out to Seattle and handling things for the transfer of all their belongings. All she had left to do now was get dressed and meet her best friend at the dress shop.
After they had a nice lunch, she would call the real estate agent and see about looking at some apartments. It was time to find a new home here in Seattle. A warm happy feeling spread though her at the thought of her plans to relocate. She missed being close to her best friend, and she had a really good feeling about her decision to move to the west coast.
Chapter Eight
“Damn, you look rough.”
Wes turned to see his brother, Dallas, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. His arms were folded across his chest, legs crossed, and on his face—smugness. Great, just what he wanted to deal with early in the morning, his know-it-all brother smirking at him from across the room.
The early drive back from Seattle hadn't improved his mood any either.
A hangover from hell filled his body to the brink, the pounding in his skull creating a beat all its own, and his stomach rolled with nausea so great he could barely keep upright. “I don’t feel up to this right now.” He stumbled over to the counter, pulled a mug out of the cupboard, and filled it will coffee.
“I can see that. Drank a bit too much last night—doesn’t surprise me though. The way you pounded them back, it was apparent you were parched. The real question is what had you so desperate to drown yourself in alcohol?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Wes took a swig of the coffee. It burned as it went down his throat and tasted like tar. He couldn’t stand coffee, but he needed something to jolt him back into the living. His whole body ached, and if he didn’t know better, he’d believe he truly was the walking dead—the way his body screamed at him, it did have the death warmed over feeling.
Dallas walked over, grabbed his own mug, and filled it with coffee. He took a sip of it and stared at Wes over the brim.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’m waiting for you to be ready to talk about it.”
“I told you—”
Dallas interrupted him, “Yes, I know. You don’t want to talk about it, but you’re not going to stop this brooding until you get whatever is bothering you off your chest.”
Wes stomped over to the table and set his mug down with a loud thud. He yanked a chair back and sat down. “Why can’t you let this go?” He rested his elbows on the table. Leaning his head forward, he let it fall onto his open palms. “My head hurts too much to talk about anything.”
“You know if you—”
Wes lifted his head from his palms and glared at him. “I don’t need any lectures. I seem to remember a time when you drank way too much all the
“I got a call from the dress shop. They need us there an hour earlier. I wanted to make sure you could still make it. I know you have other plans while you are here,” Ginnifer explained.
“Nothing I can’t postpone until later on today. So we need to be there at ten instead?”
“Yes”
“Okay I’ll plan on seeing you a little bit earlier. Maybe we will finish in time for lunch.”
“Count on it. I’m sure I’ll be starving by the time we are done,” Ginny exclaimed. “I will be in desperate need of an extensive and drawn-out meal with my best friend.”
“Is that a subtle reference to your very active sex life?”
“Of course not—Okay maybe a little.” Ginnifer sighed. “I miss you, and I want to spend time with you. I’m looking forward to seeing you later, but now I’ve got to get ready to leave. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye Ginny.” Tori pressed End and settled in to finish her breakfast. She had a lot less time to get things done than she anticipated. The important stuff was already done though. Alison was on board to move out to Seattle and handling things for the transfer of all their belongings. All she had left to do now was get dressed and meet her best friend at the dress shop.
After they had a nice lunch, she would call the real estate agent and see about looking at some apartments. It was time to find a new home here in Seattle. A warm happy feeling spread though her at the thought of her plans to relocate. She missed being close to her best friend, and she had a really good feeling about her decision to move to the west coast.
Chapter Eight
“Damn, you look rough.”
Wes turned to see his brother, Dallas, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. His arms were folded across his chest, legs crossed, and on his face—smugness. Great, just what he wanted to deal with early in the morning, his know-it-all brother smirking at him from across the room.
The early drive back from Seattle hadn't improved his mood any either.
A hangover from hell filled his body to the brink, the pounding in his skull creating a beat all its own, and his stomach rolled with nausea so great he could barely keep upright. “I don’t feel up to this right now.” He stumbled over to the counter, pulled a mug out of the cupboard, and filled it will coffee.
“I can see that. Drank a bit too much last night—doesn’t surprise me though. The way you pounded them back, it was apparent you were parched. The real question is what had you so desperate to drown yourself in alcohol?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Wes took a swig of the coffee. It burned as it went down his throat and tasted like tar. He couldn’t stand coffee, but he needed something to jolt him back into the living. His whole body ached, and if he didn’t know better, he’d believe he truly was the walking dead—the way his body screamed at him, it did have the death warmed over feeling.
Dallas walked over, grabbed his own mug, and filled it with coffee. He took a sip of it and stared at Wes over the brim.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’m waiting for you to be ready to talk about it.”
“I told you—”
Dallas interrupted him, “Yes, I know. You don’t want to talk about it, but you’re not going to stop this brooding until you get whatever is bothering you off your chest.”
Wes stomped over to the table and set his mug down with a loud thud. He yanked a chair back and sat down. “Why can’t you let this go?” He rested his elbows on the table. Leaning his head forward, he let it fall onto his open palms. “My head hurts too much to talk about anything.”
“You know if you—”
Wes lifted his head from his palms and glared at him. “I don’t need any lectures. I seem to remember a time when you drank way too much all the
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