Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Do you know anything about that tree?” I asked.
Thaddius’ brows go up and down, and I resist the urge to laugh. He wasn’t trying to be funny, playing caterpillar games with them. “I don’t know. It was here when I bought the place.”
Obviously. Ha. He’s funny. Dry funny. I kind of like it. “It would be fun if it was ancient. If it had seen a lot of history.”
That earns me a straight-up scowl. “I don’t know that a lot of history is worth seeing.”
“I’d like to tell you that you’re wrong.”
“You’ve known me for a hot minute, and you might be able to invent all sorts of happy stories in your head for the tree to tell, but that’s fake history. That’s not real history. Real history is messy, bloody, and sad. That’s what real life is. I don’t think you’ve lived enough of it, unsheltered at any rate, to be able to honesty understand that.”
“You’re right.” I grasp the railing in front of me. “You’re absolutely right.” I can tell that’s a surprise. He expected me to be offended. “But I’d still like to think that if that tree could talk, it would tell us about some of the better moments because it remembers those instead.”
“Sounds like a series of children’s books,” Thaddius grumbles.
He looks over his shoulder, and I watch as they rise and fall with a heavy sigh. I don’t know if he wishes he could unwind the past few hours and never have met me or if he wishes I didn’t exist at all. I know he wishes I hadn’t come. But I’m here. I’m here, and that’s that. He’s not getting rid of me.
“That would be fun. What a great idea!”
“For god’s sake.” He rubs his chin. “I’m going to get the cheese. And a blanket. We’ll eat it under the tree like you want.”
“We could also eat in the house if you want. It’s not always about what I want.”
“Those children’s books would no doubt be instant bestsellers for their unique moral message of never-ending happiness that the world so desperately needs to hear right now.”
Sounds a little bit gag-worthy, but maybe not. Maybe it would be just fine. Books about trees are always the best. “No doubt. Plus, I’m going to have an English degree soon. I think that would make them extra marketable because it would ensure I at least have the qualifications to know what I’m talking about.”
He puts up a hand and grinds his teeth again. “Stay right here. I’ll be back. No, I don’t need help, and no, don’t move from that spot. I don’t want to have to untangle you from a fence, rescue you from the donkey, or have the dog start humping your leg because he’s attracted to strange rainbow smells. I don’t want any mishaps happening, period. I want it to be like you aren’t even here.”
“So if I weren’t, you’d have a sheep cheese picnic by yourself under the tree?”
Both his eyes twitch at the same time. “That’s right,” he grunts. “Damn tooting right.”
CHAPTER 6
Thaddius
Well, sheep cheese, my cheese. She’s actually going to eat it.
I came out of the house and changed from my rubber boots and work clothes into another pair of worn-in jeans with old stains showing on the fabric but clean nonetheless. I even threw on a fresh flannel shirt. It’s too warm for the evening. I don’t know why I bothered changing since now I’m sweating it out under the big old maple tree.
I refuse to acknowledge that I changed because I wanted to smell fresh for Nina. I also refused to bring a blanket, so we’re sitting on the grass, and Little Miss Rainbows Galore Princess isn’t one bit disturbed about that.
I found a sleeve of crackers to pair with the masterpiece that is my sheep cheese. I’m darn proud of it. This particular batch was made with herbs and spices, and the outside is coated in nuts. It looks like one of those cheese balls made from goat cheese that you’d find in the store, but there’s nothing better than homemade. My cheese would blow any store cheese straight out of the cheese park.
Half of me doesn’t want Nina’s approval. That’s the same half that doesn’t care if she likes the cheese or not. Then there’s the other half that is so proud of my creation, my sheep, and this whole place that I want to see her smile after she puts the cheese in her mouth, not gag.
She takes a cracker, and I watch her hands. They’re small, dainty hands with pale skin that would probably burn with prolonged time out in the sun, so thank goodness we’re shaded, and it’s late evening right now. I focus on her face, not her lush curves in my clothes. But my dick still pulses regardless because he’s literally a dick and totally brainless. He reacts to basic biology, not logic.