Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“He said he did. Other night. Who knows though?” Wyatt shrugged. “Says he’s gonna go out for the volunteer crew first. But he’s also yapping about trying college. You never know with that kid. Can’t stick to anything worth a crap.”
“Any ETA on the extraction?” Garrick and Ray, their other team members, came around the bend, huffing as they hauled their share of the gear.
“Nope. Gotta haul ass to get us back for a late dinner.” Wyatt managed to sound upbeat, but later, once Linc was dropping him off at the small house he and May shared at the edge of town, Wyatt had one more warning. “And I meant what I said. Don’t you start messing around with Jacob. We might go way back, but I’ll lay you out flat myself, you and him start carrying on.”
“No worry of that,” he said, pitching his own voice low and calm, no trace of the junk heap of emotions piling up inside him. “Go on now. Don’t make May walk out and see what’s keeping you.”
“Fine. Some uncle you’re gonna be, the way you hover over her. Between you and Mom, kid’ll come out rolled in bubble wrap.”
That Wyatt considered him an uncle for the kid on the way didn’t make him warm with satisfaction, the way it might have earlier in the day. Now, it just added to his guilt and uncertainty, feelings that didn’t evaporate as he headed home.
There was a shadow on the porch as he pulled up, and his heart knew what it was even if his brain didn’t want to admit it quite yet.
“Linc. I was hoping they’d bring you back early.” Jacob’s voice was low and urgent as soon as Linc stepped onto the porch. It was old and sagging, one of the many things that needed complete replacing, not just repair. No light either, another thing he’d need to add. Off to the side of the house was a junk heap, smaller now thanks to Jacob’s help. The whole place had gone to ruin while Linc had bounced around, sometimes here, sometimes out in Idaho or Wyoming, trying to outrun...everything. But apparently he hadn’t run far enough, pulled back by his father’s death to this box of uncomfortable memories.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He wanted it to come out stern, but his voice was weary, energy bled out from the argument with Wyatt and the long shift. And now this. In his tiredness as he’d pulled in, he’d missed seeing the little compact parked on the other side of the junk heap. The car had belonged to one of Jacob’s sisters and was currently held together with little more than duct tape and hope.
“Waiting. For you. Figured you’d show up sometime before midnight.” It was too dark to see much of Jacob’s smile, but Linc could hear it. The pleasure in Jacob’s voice sliced him to the core, spoke to everything he’d been trying so hard not to notice the past few weeks, like the way his pulse sped up just sharing the same oxygen. Trying to steady himself, he sank down on a five-gallon paint barrel, carefully positioning himself away from where Jacob was perched on the rickety railing. “Invite me in?”
Oh, hell no. Linc ignored that potential stick of dynamite and went for the real reason Jacob had probably turned up. “Heard you caused a bit of a ruckus with the family last night.”
“They’ll get over it.” This new all-grown-up, superconfident version of Jacob had plagued Linc ever since he got back to town. Jacob was the kind of guy who didn’t let life get him down long, bouncing back from what had to be a hell of a hurt, and Linc couldn’t help but admire that quality. He still managed to joke around, smile, get under Linc’s skin. Especially that last one.
He wouldn’t say he missed the little kid Jacob had been, because he’d barely known him at all. Back then, he’d been just another little Hartman kid roaming around, getting underfoot to whatever real business he and Wyatt were about. But then he’d turned back up, all lean muscle and short blond hair and a come-get-me grin, no trace of that annoying toddler, and a whole lot more trouble.
“Anything in particular bring this on?” He told himself that curiosity was the only reason he was keeping Jacob talking.
“Friends of mine were sharing memes about coming-out stories.”
Linc tried picturing a universe where he might... Nah. Never happening.
Jacob’s sigh was far worldlier than his almost-twenty years would seem to support. “It’s a social media thing. I know, I know, you’re not big on that, but news flash, there’s a whole world beyond Painter’s Ridge.”
“I’ve been around, remember?” He needed to remind them both that he was a good ten years older than Jacob.