Series: The Weavers Circle Series by Jocelynn Drake
Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
The bigger problem was the man himself.
And not because he was hands down one of the sexiest men Cort had ever seen. When those steely gray-blue eyes fell on his face for the first time, he swore Grey could see straight through to his soul. It was more than a little unnerving.
But that feeling passed when Cort spotted the clenched jaw and hard swallow of a person trying to hold everything together in the face of mounting terror and frustration.
The clients who lost their sight suddenly were the ones who struggled the most. The majority of his clients were the elderly who’d lost their sight gradually over time. They learned to make adjustments, change habits, and adapt to the change. Cort’s time with them was generally shorter. They’d learned most of his tricks and shortcuts already.
But for Grey, his entire world had been upended overnight, and he was still clinging to old habits to see him through, hoping his sight would return before he had to learn to make bigger changes.
That broke Cort’s heart. He couldn’t stop himself from wishing Grey were right, that this was just a temporary hitch in his step. Everything would return to normal soon.
If it didn’t, though, Cort planned to be right there for him. He’d get the stubborn man on his feet and living his life again.
Rubbing one hand over his short hair, Cort stared out across the backyard and smiled at the play of the sun bouncing along the small waves of the pool water. The plants all looked small and relatively new. The grass was still baby fine. The more troubling sign was the blackened scorch marks on several of the tree trunks. Had they suffered a fire? It was hard to judge how long ago it had happened. The plants looked relatively new, but the older trees that were scorched still had leaves on them. Wouldn’t they have been burned up too?
Yet, despite that bit of strangeness, what he’d seen of the old house was beautiful. The front yard and driveway were lined with old oaks and magnolia trees. There were signs of remodeling going on, but that was probably the norm for an old place like this. The home was incredibly peaceful. Birds sang in the trees, there was the distant croak of frogs, and dragonflies buzzed through the air. None of the usual noise pollution that came with living in the city.
It was something in Grey’s favor when it came to relaxing and recuperating. There was a peacefulness to the place that would aid his healing.
“If it helps, grumpy is the default setting for Grey,” a low, deep voice said.
Cort gave a little start and turned to find a man with dark-brown hair and equally dark-brown eyes watching him. He was relaxing on a patio love seat, his elbows balanced on his knees. Cort hadn’t even noticed him there. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts.
He smirked and crossed over to the man. “Grumpy is a pretty normal response for what he’s going through. For a lot of people, hostile is fairly normal as well.”
“Yeah, we’ve seen that, and he knows we’re not going anywhere no matter how much he pushes at us.” The man stood as Cort approached and extended his hand. “Clay Green. I think you met my husband, Dane, already.”
The introduction caught Cort flatfooted, and he blinked for a second. Yes, it had been five years since the Supreme Court made same-sex marriage legal. And yes, the world was generally a more accepting place, but there was just something in the way Clay had said it, like it was the most natural, normal thing in the whole world. In Cort’s world, it was still very, very rare.
“Yes, I met Dane,” Cort said, inwardly wincing at the lag between Clay’s comment and his response. He had to get his tired brain working a little faster than that. “He took me up and introduced me to Grey. Seems like he’s taking an active hand in watching over Grey.”
“We all have, though Dane has definitely been the most attentive.” Clay rubbed his jaw for a moment, his eyes boring hard into Cort. “I know you’ve already put in a long day, but we were wondering if you could spare a few moments to speak with his family. Give us some tips on how we can possibly help or at least keep from hindering his progress.”
A large smile spread across Cort’s lips, and he could feel his estimation of Clay inching up a little higher. The family of any client was always a bit hit or miss. There were some, like Clay, that wanted to be involved and learning right along with the client. And then there were others who simply wanted to hand the client off and wash their hands of them. They were now Cort’s problem to deal with.