Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
It didn’t escape my notice that “How can we accept this?” wasn’t written in Soph’s familiar, girlie scrawl. That one had to be from Dylan.
“Here’s the thing, Dylan. Y’all can thank me for buying the lot and being one of the guys holding the shovel or mixin’ the cement, but the rest—it ain’t my money. I can’t use it myself. I don’t like the reason I got it—at the same time, fuck if I’m gonna give it back. I’ve earned every damn buck. Soph, too. I ain’t the only one who’s put in countless hours on that ranch. Growing up, we were all at it. School breaks, weekends, holidays. She worked there full time before she got out.” I stuck a couple fries into my mouth. “And not a single paycheck to show for it. She didn’t sneak around like David and I did either, nor did she push her luck with an expensive car or high-end fashion.”
He nodded slowly and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“You and Soph are also the two people I wanna call home base,” I admitted. “More and more lately, I feel uprooted and unsettled, and it would be nice to have a place where I get the sense, you know—this is where my family lives. This is where I can come visit. This is where we’ll celebrate Christmas and have Thanksgiving dinner.” I paused, unable to ignore Sebastian in this topic. “I’m sure Sebastian feels the same.” Because in a way, he and I were alike. We were both outsiders who were a part of Soph and Dylan’s crew. Next, I pointed my burger at the land in front of us. “This is it, man. It won’t just be a home to you, Soph, and the kids. It’ll be the crime scene for future holidays and get-togethers. This is for all of us.”
He cracked a little grin. “I cannot tell you how perfect that sounds to me.”
Well, good. That was good.
I took another bite of my burger. “I hope you still feel that way when it turns out that the solar panels were a fucking waste in this sunless state and all you manage to power up with them is the indicator lamp on your stove.”
He laughed at that—hard.
Twenty-seven minutes to go.
I blew out a nervous breath and leaned the shovel against the scaffolding.
The good thing about having a construction project to distract me was that hours could go by, wars could start, a zombie apocalypse could begin, and I wouldn’t even notice. The bad part…well, I’d lost hours to taking measurements, digging a trench around the area that would support the guesthouse, and now I had less than half an hour to prepare myself to face Sebastian again.
The plans had changed too, which I wasn’t too happy about. I’d seen the text from Soph last time I went in to get coffee, and it’d taken me a solid ten minutes to agree and confirm.
Pizza night had moved to right here. Sebastian wanted to “see the place with his own eyes.”
After stowing away my tools, I ushered the boys back into the RV and closed the door. Then I brought out my last clean change of clothes before stripping out of today’s work outfit. Everything went into a black trash bag. Tomorrow I would have to track down a laundromat.
I showered, brushed my teeth, but couldn’t be assed to shave—as usual. The bathroom might be on the larger side of what I’d seen in RVs before, but it was still tiny to anyone over six feet.
Fourteen minutes left.
My stomach tightened further, and I hated it. It was the toxicity. How could Soph and David not understand? This was Sebastian’s doing. He made me feel this crap.
How the fuck did that not mean he was bad news?
I shook my head to myself and put on a pair of boxer briefs, followed by jeans, socks, sneakers, belt, a black Henley, and my Bulldogs cap. My new shoes would have to wait until the outdoors wasn’t so muddy—or until I had a date. I wanted to try that eventually. Definitely not with anyone who made me feel like an insecure teenager, but someone who was…nice. Someone who was okay.
“Anybody home?” I heard Dylan holler from outside.
My breath hitched a little before I reminded myself that Dylan was safe.
In fact, I was glad he arrived first.
Making sure the dogs stayed behind, I headed outside and spotted Dylan dragging something out of his car. Or a company car. I hurried over there to help him.
“I can’t control the rain,” he grunted, setting the heavy-looking heater on the ground. “But I can give you a heated patio.”
“Buddy, that’s unnecessary.” I was just gonna use the grill to spread some warmth. I’d extended the awning earlier to provide extra shelter too.
“It’s not just for you,” he replied. He walked back to pop the trunk next. “You’re out of your mind if you think you’re gonna build the guesthouse on your own. Sebastian and I will help out—but we’ll need a place to sit where we don’t have to worry about bringing half the yard inside.”