Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Danger. Abort. Bad idea. Nice as it was to remember what attraction felt like, he wasn’t up to flirting, let alone anything else, and Rain was the trifecta of probably straight, too young and way off-limits. Better he simply focus on the job at hand and not let himself get carried away with anything else.
* * *
Grandma’s neighbor was hot. Like distractingly so, with broad shoulders and biceps for days coupled with a movie-star-worthy face—chiseled features and piercing green eyes and shaggy hair that danced between dirty blond and light brown. But Rain was supposed to be focusing on the dog, not Garrick, and on driving through a town he’d only visited a couple of times since his grandmother moved. She refused to call it a retirement, but buying a house had been her admitting that maybe her years on the art festival circuit were coming to a halt, and providing her fabric crafts to a nearby touristy place was more her current speed.
“So you visiting for the weekend?” Garrick asked as Rain followed his phone’s GPS directions toward downtown.
“No, I’m supposed to be here for a couple of months. I took the spring term off college, thought I might see what seasonal work I could find around here, help Grandma out at the same time.”
“That sounds nice. I’m sure she could use the hand.”
“Eh. She’s like her dog—rather territorial about her place. It was my mom’s idea, so we’ll see if it sticks.” Rain did love Grandma, but so far she hadn’t let him anywhere near her sewing machine or dye buckets so he wasn’t sure how much help he was actually going to be. “I had an interview this morning for a bartender gig—that’s why I’m dressed up—but I don’t think I passed it.”
“Oh?” Garrick didn’t sound judgmental, merely curious.
“Yeah. It’s the clubhouse at the golf course south of town. I didn’t know half the drinks they quizzed me on, and they asked how I felt about a haircut.”
“Ouch.” Garrick laughed. “Yeah, don’t do that. Keep looking. Plenty of other seasonal jobs.”
“You’d know, right? I thought Grandma said you were a smoke jumper?”
“Yep.” Garrick didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, instead looking out the window, and Rain couldn’t blame him—he’d get the scoop from Grandma about Garrick’s injuries rather than bug him for gory details he probably didn’t want to share.
“That’s cool. I’ve got some applications in with the forest service and other places since some of my classes were pre-fire academy. I didn’t get a slot for this year though, hence taking a term off.” He kept his voice casual. The Portland Fire Academy was notoriously competitive, so he was trying hard not to take it too personally, but man it had hurt to not even make the short list of applicants who would be considered for fall placements. Oh well. On to the next adventure.
“You can park up here.” Garrick pointed to a lot next to a brick building with a cheerful sign with dogs and cats on it. “And don’t let it get you down, kid. Don’t give up on the dream.”
Kid. Okay. So much for Hottie Neighbor. No one called him kid these days and got away with it. Quietly seething, he found the closest spot to the door. He might be irked, but he was still careful with the wheelchair and crutches as he unloaded them for Garrick.
“Need my arm?” He knew better than to hover, but still wanted to make the offer if Garrick needed assistance.
“Nah. I’ve got it.” Garrick smoothly transferred from the car to the chair, then waited for Rain to unload the dog. “That’s a good girl.” Garrick stuck out his hand and this time the dog sniffed it, even without a treat. She seemed to be warming up to both of them, even though she was noticeably skittish as they approached the door. Once inside, she plopped down, almost like she was trying to hide behind them.
“Now, who do we have here?” A receptionist in kitten-print scrubs and pink glasses peered over her desk at them. Garrick explained about finding the dog, and the receptionist nodded sympathetically. “It shouldn’t be too long a wait for the vet. I’ll need a name for her though, just to start a chart.”
“Name?” Garrick looked over at Rain like he might have the answer, which was nice, being consulted like that. Usually take-charge guys like Garrick didn’t slow down long enough to solicit other opinions. Which Rain had.
“If they can’t find an owner, you want her to have a great shot at adoption. Pick something fun and gentle for her maybe? Approachable? She looks all tough, big black dog, but really she’s almost shy. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
As if she knew she was being talked about, the dog crept forward to nose at the treat bag Rain was holding.