Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
She was annoying. Cute but annoyingly peppy. It wasn’t like he was all gloom and doom, but he was absolutely allowed to see the dark lining in this particular cloud. He took the end of the chain. “Thanks.”
He’d said it in a deep tone, but her smile amped up. “You’re welcome. I’ll go slow.”
She thought he needed her to turn the winch on? “Don’t. I needed something to balance against. If you turn that thing on and it goes too fast, I could break a leg or two.”
She moved back to land, and Dolly came to sit beside her. Both woman and dog stared at him like he’d said something dumb. “I wasn’t planning on cranking it up. But by all means, use those muscles of yours. You look like you’re very strong. Again, something you should be grateful for. Not everyone could do that.”
Not everyone suffered through military training and had to be ready to take down any number of threats.
He had to be able to pick up his father when he fell. Once, that would have been a mighty feat of strength, but now the man was so frail Major barely noticed his weight.
He forced himself to focus. He wasn’t about to put himself in a position where he had to risk life and limb because he couldn’t pull himself out. He worked, arms straining. The instinct to pull as hard as he could was discarded because, like in all things, patience would win this war.
“You’re doing so well,” Brynn said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. Like he was a toddler learning to walk. “That’s at least an inch.”
“Are you usually this peppy?” He eased his grip up the chain. She was right. He was moving, albeit very slowly. He felt his sneakers go. That was only to be expected, but damn, he’d only bought them a month ago. At least that meant he was moving.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she replied.
It wasn’t bad, necessarily. Just a little annoying.
When had he become the king grump of the world? He grunted and continued his long slog to freedom. He used to be the happy one, the smiling one. In his unit in the Army, he’d been the one who made everyone laugh, who always kept their spirits up.
He was about to be alone in the world. His father was slipping away, and no one was going to throw him a lifeline, because there wasn’t one for what he had.
He banished the thoughts and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. His muscles strained but he kept moving. He would go home, take a shower, and wash Dolly off, and he might make his shift in time. Might because he would have to clean his vehicle. There was zero chance he was driving home in his underwear, because he was fairly certain Mrs. Dury across the street had her doorbell camera facing out so she could keep tabs on whoever came and went from his place. So the parish vehicle would need a detailing, and that would teach him never to drive it when he was off duty.
He managed to make it to the sad piece of siding. It was the safest place he’d been for hours and hours. He dragged his torso up and felt his feet come free and took a long breath.
Maybe pretty blond Brynn was right and he was lucky. Dolly was fine. He was alive. It had been pure luck that Brynn had shown up with everything he needed to get free.
“Wow. That mud was incredibly sticky.”
He managed to look up, and Brynn was standing there all pretty and perfect. He probably looked . . . well, like a dumbass who’d gotten stuck in the mud for hours. “Yeah, I’m pretty dirty, but I am no longer your problem. Thank you for helping and . . .”
He had started to get to his knees when he froze.
“I don’t think Harry has an extra pair of pants in the truck.” Brynn’s lips had kicked up in a grin.
His sweats were gone. They’d slid off while he’d pulled himself up. He was wearing nothing but his University of Houston T-shirt, his underwear, and a pair . . . nope, one sock. And naturally because he hadn’t done laundry he was wearing one of the three pairs of tighty-whities he owned. The universe hadn’t even left him the dignity of boxers.
A warm tongue licked the side of his face.
“Hey, we should get you off there before it slides in. Come on, Dolly. Let your dad get up. We need to get him back to his car.” Brynn’s voice was sweet and soothing.
“The car is a no-go because my keys were in my pants. I don’t suppose they’re floating.” He knew better than to turn around. He forced himself to crawl up the plank Brynn had made and get to his feet.