Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
I double-check all the doors are locked, then walk back to the living room. My laptop can stay where it is, especially since Josephine will be in bed with me. She hasn’t messed with it before, and I doubt she would. Besides, the girl would rather watch television than play on a screen. Jameson lucked the heck out, I’ll say that much.
“Come on, sweet girl, time for bed.” I grab the remote, turn the television off, and then pick her up. Her bear drops, and I make sure to scoop her stuffed animal up. I place my phone in my pajama shorts pocket. Thank you, Mom, for searching high and low for the unicorn of all unicorns when it comes to pj’s. I walk carefully and quietly toward Jameson’s room. His home really is cozy, not overly big or too small. It takes us no time at all to make it to the bed, where I place her on the side I’m not sleeping on and then arrange a pillow on the side closest to the nightstand. A yawn escapes me. Maybe it was a good thing JoJo came out and asked to sleep with me because all of a sudden, I’m feeling tired. I move around to the other side of the massive king-size bed, taking my phone out of my pocket to see if Jameson texted back. When I’m left with no response, I quickly type out another message and add a picture of a sleeping Josephine.
Me: Hey, never mind on the FaceTime call. The princess asked to sleep with me tonight and is already fast asleep. I hope you get some sleep tonight <3
I wait for a moment, and when the message doesn’t appear read or a phone call doesn’t come through, I put my phone on charge on the nightstand and climb beneath the covers with Josephine. God, I hope this week flies by. JoJo isn’t the only one missing Jameson today. I am, too.
31
JAMESON
“Jesus, I’m worn the hell out.” Matthew greets me after he loads his equipment on the trailer. We don’t usually leave the equipment on the job site, but this is better than trailering it back to the hotel, where it’s easier to get broken into. This way, no one really knows where it’s locked and loaded. I also have a GPS on the trailer, along with each piece of equipment. The next time we get a proposal more than forty-five minutes away, I’m telling them thanks, but no fucking thanks. Four days I’ve been gone from my girls, and I’m a miserable asshole to everyone except Kody and Josephine. Probably because the reason I’m a damn grump is because I’m only talking to or seeing them a few minutes a day.
“Tell me about it. This shit is for the birds,” Shaun agrees with Matthew. I didn’t think he’d be as annoyed with the job as he’s been. Maybe we’re all just getting older, because the rest of the crew is eating it up. Per diem, a hotel, and overtime, they’re thriving. They’re also more than ten years younger than us. Fuck, I’m feeling every bit of my thirty-nine years old today.
“Never again. I’ll walk away. There’s no amount of money that makes me want to work twelve- to fourteen-hour days, barely get to see Josephine, and put it all on Kody’s shoulders. Nope, never again.” I’m commiserating with my brother and friend turned co-worker. We all know when we’re at work, it’s a boss-employee relationship, and outside of work, we’re friends and family.
“Thank fuck. I miss my damn bed, and now that my sister practically lives with you, I’m able to walk around my house buck-ass naked or have women over every once in a while.” Shaun is so full of shit. He may miss walking around naked, but everyone knows he doesn’t bring women back to his house. It’s his cardinal rule. Guys’ poker night, yes. His sister living with him, also yes. Women spending the night, hard fucking no.
“Got that right. When we get home, I’ll be helping her pack her bags. I’m about over her thinking she’s gotta live out of a damn suitcase at my house.” I want her shit littering the house along with Josephine’s. Hair ties, work shit, a pair of shoes. Anything besides feeling like she has to pick up after herself every damn minute.
“Good luck with that. She’s still using suitcases and boxes at my house,” Shaun elaborates.
“The actual fuck?” Now that I recall, everything had a spot, was orderly, and there were boxes stacked along the wall with her belongings.
“Yeah, she always feels like a burden at my house, tries to buy groceries and slip me money.” I shake my head. The other two crew members walk by, dropping off their keys to the equipment. We shut down the conversation for the time being. It’s not that we exclude them, but this is personal to both Shaun and me.