Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
He had seven and a half hours before he had to rise and go to the airport to pick Scott up. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t grab a book or use my laptop to study. I lay there, alone, watching Beau, so thankful for the life we were forging together.
“I love you,” I said quietly. I received a perfectly timed snore in return. “I can’t wait for you to get here. We’re starting over again. Funny how we keep doing that. Maybe this time will stick.” My hand fisted in reaction to the need to reach out and touch my guy. I tucked the pillow under my cheek and continued to stare for several hours. What a love we shared.
Beau
Dallas, Texas
A rare cool front pushed through Dallas, making today, late in May, feel almost like early springtime. The sun shone, a gentle breeze blew over us every now and again, and the birds were chirping their little tunes. All positive signs for the official relocation day.
“Fuck, Brooks,” Scott said in his most annoying whiny tone. “Why couldn’t you move from Dallas when it wasn’t so fuckin’ hot?” Clearly, he had no idea how truly heated the DFW area got this time of year. He also followed right on my tail from the house to the bed of my pickup truck, a couple packed boxes in his hands.
“What did he say?” Dash asked from the earbud currently stuck inside my ear.
“He said it’s hot here,” I said. This back and forth, repeating what the other said was getting old fast. Since Dash had insisted on being on the phone every leg of the trip, I felt like twenty hours from now was going to be my breaking point.
“Right?” Dash answered. “But it’s chilly here. I’m still wearing a jacket and long pants. Make sure you have your jackets or coats handy. It’s not expected to warm up for another few weeks.”
“We got ’em in the cab.” I hoisted myself into the truck bed, scooting the boxes in was like playing a game of Tetris.
“What’d he say?” Scott asked, pushing each of his loads toward me. I rose to my full height, stretching out my shoulder and arm to help release the tightness there.
“He said it’s cold there,” I repeated, keeping the rotation of my arm circling. This muscle ache could be due to the stress both men were putting on me as opposed to an actual strained muscle.
“Mr. Beau, is this rod in the backseat for Dash’s clothes?” Amelia asked. She’d taken responsibility for Dash’s clothing herself. She understood firsthand how carefully he treated them, so she wrapped each piece by itself, mindful of any potential long drags. Since it’d be a while before he was able to commission a new bespoke anything, he had been silly careful with what he had available.
“What did she ask?” Dash questioned. My shoulders drooped in the beat down I was experiencing. What happened to my chirping birds and gentle breeze?
“She asked about the rod in the backseat, and yes, Amelia’s the only one hangin’ your clothes there,” I said, starting for the tailgate to jump to the driveway. “Why do you need to be on the phone through this phase of the move? It’d be so much faster…”
“Because I desperately wish I was there. I should’ve taken the day off and flown home,” he said, giving the perfect sorrowful inflection to his tone.
My response to the many different ways Dash had attempted to come home for this move played like a loop out of my mouth. “Since neither of us has a job, I think it’s best for you to stay put. I’ll handle this leg, but it’d be so much smoother if I could hang up the phone. These earbuds are startin’ to hurt my ears.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Dash said dryly. “The earbuds take time for the ear to adapt.” Like I thought, the sad tone was all a manipulation tactic. The new voice in place spoke of something more akin to “buck up, buttercup.”
“If Amelia gets lonely, me and Lauren and Daisy Mae can come stay with her,” Scott said good-naturedly.
“Do they need a place to stay?” Dash asked, apparently having heard Scott just fine. “Amelia won’t mind.”
I didn’t bother responding. That was the other side of the communication problem we were experiencing. Scott and I messed around with each other all the time. What Dash was missing was all of Scott’s facial cues. I’d have to explain those too.
“We started with about fifteen boxes to load then we’ll tie it all down. Amelia’s at least halfway through. Her short legs move pretty quickly. We’ll probably have to help there—” Dash cut him off.
“Please use care,” Dash reinforced. “How did you pack my shoes?” Oh man, like we hadn’t discussed these things at length, several times over.