Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
“Stone, this is Royal.” She gestured at him, palm up as though she was displaying a prize on a game show. “Royal is from…”
“New York, uh Manhattan,” he finished for her.
“Yes! Manhattan. Wow, I plan to go there as soon as I finish college.” She bounced up and down. “Oh my gosh, all the lights, the skyscrapers, the Statue of Liberty, ahhh,” she squealed, “the Empire State building! I’m an architect major. I’m in my junior year at St. Josephs. I help my auntie here at the Pines when I’m on holiday break. I just love winter!”
She had so much energy it made him nauseous.
“Royal, this is Stone, our local craftsman. If you’re here a while, you’ll see his signature Stone Wood Carvings on just about every standing structure in town.”
“Royal,” Stone dragged his name out as if he was trying out the flavor of it on his tongue.
Fuck that voice. Royal hoped his name tasted good.
He flinched when Stone jutted his big hand out in front of him. It took him a moment but Royal slid his hand inside that massive palm and allowed it to be engulfed. The feel of hardened callouses against his soft skin made his belly warm.
“Hello,” he responded in a daze. He felt so damn out of place, like a new student being introduced to the class. “A business name that’s a strategic oxymoron is far more marketable than one without. And it has a seventy-two percent clickability advantage over its listed competition.”
Stone’s raised brow made him clamp his mouth shut.
What the fuck am I saying?
They stared at him with perplexed expressions. It wasn’t one of judgment, but one of curiosity like when down-to-earth folks encountered stuffy know-it-alls.
“If you say so,” Stone ground out.
Jojo cackled so loud it made the sting of his embarrassment that much worse.
“You’re funny, Mr. Manhattan. What do you do by the way? Let me guess. You’re a marketing executive. Or an agent…no a lawyer. Or a—”
Royal put his hand up. It annoyed him when a person asked a question and answered it all in one sentence. But Jojo was cute and her cheerfulness was mildly endearing.
“I work…worked in finance.”
Stone stood rigid as a statue, except for those keen eyes roaming over Royal’s face then down his body.
Shit, he remembered he was dressed as if he were on his way to a meeting at a country club.
“Jojo, can you maybe direct me to a place where I can buy some clothes a little more suitable for the weather?”
Stone glanced down at his shiny boots.
“Something warmer and more durable for the snow.”
Her face lit up. “Of course. There’s several shops on Main, but I’d start at Jessie’s first. It’s called Downeast Duds. He has the best stuff for men. Coats, boots, hats, you name it.”
“Perfect.” Royal gave a curt nod. “Thank you.”
He was almost to the door when Jojo hollered out.
“Oh Royal! Our Mayor’s been talking about hiring a city manager with a background in finance to oversee the tourist budgets. Evergreen Cove winter festival is our biggest event and she needs so much help, poor thing. You should stop by her office if you’re gonna be here a while and needing employment.”
Royal ducked his head as the familiar knocking started at the base of his neck. “I’m retired…but thanks.”
He met Stone’s gaze one last time, the connection jolting him in a way that sent ripples down his spine. “It was nice meeting you, Stone.”
Stone
Stone had grown up in Windeville, this was his home and all he’d ever known. Sixteen generations of his family were rooted here, they’d helped build the foundation and had laid the first brick.
He and his husband had been best friends since high school, and an epic love had developed between them over the many years. A relationship that’d made Stone smile from the moment he woke in the morning until he climbed into a warm bed at night.
Now all he had left of Ben was the home they’d built together and a lifetime of cherished memories.
He also had the Stone family business he’d inherited from his parents and a dozen generations before them. A business of strong-as-oak lumberjacks, not only built by the men but included the matriarchs of loggers as well.
Now the town knew Stone as the widowed grump of a man who was strong as an ox, and as quiet as falling snow. A man of few words and even fewer smiles.
And he was fine with that.
Everything in his world had its place. Well, everything except for what he was feeling about the man—Royal was his name—standing at the end of the Cedar Pines Bed & Breakfast parking lot.
He seemed so tired, lost and out of place, like a drifter who’d gotten off the bus at the wrong stop.
Royal was turning his head back and forth at the shops on Main street as if he were trying to figure out how in the hell he got there.