Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
He let out a humorless laugh. “Upset? Why would that be? Is it because I didn’t get shit done at work today? Or because I still have hours of shoveling shit left? Or because everyone I know is now wondering if I’ve lost my damned mind? Or because I completely forgot to tell my baby sister that I up and got married, so she probably had to find out about it from half a dozen nosy nellies in town stopping by her pottery studio ‘just because’ and happening to mention what her idiot brother did?”
“Sounds like you’ve been stewing about this for a little while.”
“Ever since Sheridan left,” he admitted.
I reached back out and settled the hat on his head. Then I stepped even closer and rested my hands on his shoulders, digging my thumbs into the compacted muscle on either side of his neck. “Take a breath.”
Way’s eyes angled away from mine, off toward the river, while he inhaled through his nose. “I can handle it,” he muttered.
“Mmhm. That’s not in doubt. The question is, should you have to?”
He glanced back at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I continued pressing out the tension in his neck and shoulders. “Everyone sure seems to have an opinion on your life.”
He waited for me to continue.
I shrugged. “I guess I’m just wondering why you feel like you need to be everything for everybody all the time. Hell, Way, I’ve only known you for ten minutes, and I can see the demands this place and the town put on you. And you take it all on like it’s some kind of—”
He shrugged out of my grip and stepped to the side, reaching for the door handle on his old truck. “You know you don’t need to act like my husband when it’s just us, right? No pep talk needed.”
I held my hands up and stepped back from him. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry if I overstepped. It’s none of my business. I just… it seems like you’re trying to be everyone’s hero around here, and I just wonder if maybe there’s a better way, that’s all.”
The edge of his lip turned up, and the stress seemed to leave his expression for the most part. “You trying to corporate strategize me, city boy?”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
He yanked open the metal door with a screech. “Well, cut that shit out. Save it for your consulting whatever-the-fuck.”
As he slid into the truck, I contemplated offering to help him with his chores. But with my lack of experience on a ranch and his current mood, that seemed like it would only cause him more trouble in the long run.
I turned around and entered the tiny house. It was charming and homey despite its small size. I helped myself to a glass of water from the tap and looked around the interior.
I poked my head into his bedroom to see what I could learn about him. It took me half a second to realize he’d been right when he’d said it was more of a nook than a room. The queen-sized bed took up the entire space. Built-in bookshelves lined the interior wall, and a wide window took up most of the opposite one with a view of the river and mountains in the distance. It must have been an incredibly inspirational way to wake up in the morning.
The bookshelf held several paperbacks, ranging from classics to cowboy westerns to modern-day spy novels. It didn’t really surprise me that he was a reader since I imagined the nights were long and dark out here, especially in winter, but I still enjoyed seeing evidence of his tastes. It helped feel like he wasn’t quite such a stranger.
In the wall between the arched door to the bed nook and the arched door to the bathroom was an almost hidden door to a closet. It was filled on one side with shelves of neatly folded blue jeans and T-shirts, a cardboard boot box full of rolled-up boxer briefs, and another boot box of neatly paired socks. On the other side was a short hanging bar crammed with various sweatshirts and jackets, one suit, a couple of pairs of khaki pants, and some kind of work overalls like the kind mechanics wore. On the bare wood floor was a nicer pair of cowboy boots, a worn pair of running shoes, a pair of lace-up work boots like the kind you’d wear at a construction site, and a seemingly beloved pair of old Snoopy slippers.
I knew I was invading his privacy by poking into his things, but seeing how he lived and what he prioritized in this small space made me feel less like I was married to a complete stranger and more like I was temporarily connected to a real person.
When I glanced into the bathroom, I was surprised to see it was a much larger space than I expected. At first glance, it should have been about the same size as the bed nook. But in reality, the sink, toilet, and built-in linen closet took up that amount of space, but then the room was bumped out the back, doubling the space with a custom shower surrounded on all sides with clear glass.