Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“Hey, honey, you coming over to the house this morning?” Mom asks.
“Don’t I always?”
“Well, yeah, but Eleanor said you spent the night, and I wasn’t sure if you’d be bringing Birdie with you.” I should have known better. Eleanor and my mom are as close as sisters these days.
“She’s still asleep. I’m going to get some clothes on, eat some food, stop at the house, and then head back to Birdie’s,” I tell her while walking to the kitchen. When Mom and Dad gave each of us boys a few acres on the farm, it was with the intention they’d stay within the family. We’d build our house and pay taxes on it.
So far, there’s only one brother who hasn’t finished building his place. He’s also two years older than me. Ryland is twenty-nine, a single dad, and the only reason he hasn’t gotten his ass handed to him about taking as long as he has with the build of his place is my nephew, Case. He’s only four months old and not sleeping through the night yet. We’ve all picked up where we could on Ry’s house, but it’s taking time. The ranch never rests, which makes it that much harder.
“Well, don’t hog the poor girl. I haven’t seen her in too long.” I roll my eyes. Mom went with Eleanor on a few of their trips to Colorado.
“Catherine Johnson, leave the two of them alone. You saw her more than Lane did, and it’s kind of hard to see someone who’s asleep,” Dad pipes in.
“Alright, alright. Your birthday dinner and dessert are in the fridge. Your spare key is under the mat now, too.”
“About time,” I hear Dad say in the background. My mother has a penchant for putting the phone on speaker, and today is no different.
“Hush, you, I’m glad our son is finally going after what he should have years ago. Though, I am glad he let Birdie spread her wings, so to speak. Anyways, come on over whenever. The pot of coffee is on, and breakfast is waiting.” That’s the last thing I hear before the phone line goes dead. At least this time, she hung up the phone before I heard something a son should never hear. One time, Mom thought she ended the call when she didn’t. It was actually a FaceTime call, and I couldn’t hit the end button fast enough. How Ryland still lives there is beyond me. As long as I don’t have to see more than I already did, it’s his problem. For now, it’s time to make my cup of coffee, get dressed, and get this show on the road.
7
BIRDIE
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Mom greets me the next morning. I slept like a baby, probably because Lane stayed with me the whole night. I’m not sure I even moved most of the night. It wasn’t until Lane kissed my throat, muttered he’d see me later, and placed the pillow he used in his place that I fell back to sleep.
When I woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the sheer curtains, and my nose was buried in Lane’s pillow. The spicy scent of leather, cardamom, and Lane had my legs clenching together, which, of course, triggered the pain in my ribs and abdomen. The over-the-counter pain reliever had worn off sometime during my slumber, and I needed another dose, stat.
I rolled out of bed, grabbing the bottle of water that magically appeared on my nightstand, as well as the bottle of medicine. It didn’t matter that my bladder was protesting. I tossed the pills back, chugged some water, and then went about my business. Secretly, I hoped it would kick in before now. Surprise, it didn’t, and putting on a pair of sleep shorts never hurt so bad.
“Good morning. Sorry I slept so late.” I glance at the clock on the stove, another shock hitting me when I realize it’s nearly noon.
“Not a problem, honey. Lane said to call him when you woke up,” Mom says with a smile. Meanwhile, I can feel the color blossom on my cheeks and neck. Jesus, I’m twenty-two, nearly twenty-three. I should not feel like I’ve been caught red-handed sneaking Lane into the house.
“Uh, about that.” I bring the cup of coffee to my lips. It’s so hot even with the cold creamer. The beauty of Mom having a pot of coffee on at all hours of the day, much like the Johnsons. My mom and their mom always have coffee, snacks, and then lunch ready for the employees who help them out. Speaking of, Mom is usually out in the field by this time, with a big straw hat on her head, a basket to collect flowers, and an apron to keep her extra cutters.
“I’m not worried about Lane sleeping in your bed. I figure it won’t be long until you’re living with him at his house. So I’ll take you while I can.” I nearly choke on my coffee. Which would suck, considering burning your throat is ten times worse than burning your tongue.