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)
Me? I want to point at myself and ask that out loud. Me? She has to be kidding. I wouldn’t know magic if it bit me on the rump.
“What else do you want?” she presses.
“Nothing. Just that. Just to be left alone. I’m not a problem that needs fixing. I like my life here. What came before doesn’t really matter except that selling my software gave me the money to be able to live like this now, which I’ll always be thankful for. It wasn’t luck. I worked hard at that. Even if I was in a competition with myself, it brought me here, and that means something.”
“And you get to make sheep cheese, so that’s a bonus.”
“It is. Because it’s delicious.”
“And you get to have all these furry friends. That’s super fun,” she adds.
“Yes. They’re wonderful.”
“And you get to have chickens too. They’re funny. I think I like them the best, but don’t tell anyone else I said that.”
Up on the couch, Butterscotch shakes himself, spraying water everywhere. He lets out a low growl, but I think it’s more because he’s pissed off that he’s as wet as he is. He does a slow circle, plops down, and starts licking his sodden fur.
“You’re great too, kitty,” she amends quickly. “I just think the chickens…they’re so awesome. People don’t give them enough credit. I don’t just mean insect control and keeping down the nasty ticks. They’re more like little dogs themselves. I like their clucking, and I like that they walk so funny. They have a lot of personality.”
“I think so too.” Damn it, why am I still standing here and having a conversation with her?
“It’s nice out here. It feels a little bit like the wild, wild world, but you’re only an hour from Seattle. You also have good cell signal, satellite internet, and strong connections to the outside world, which includes friends and family.”
“Those are what I want to cut off.”
She shoots me a look that says, sure. Sure. Whatever you say. If we’re cutting anything, we should be cutting the crap.
“Alright,” she agrees. “I believe you.” But of course, she doesn’t.
I can’t bring myself to be more of an asshole. Even I have my limits. “I’ll get you a towel. Better yet, I’d recommend a shower. And I’m sorry about your boots. We’ll see if we can dry them out.”
“I could always stick them in the oven,” she says offhandedly.
“What?!”
“I don’t know. Don’t you think that would work? If not, I’m going to have to get on your great internet and research some good ways to fix them. I like these. Never thought I’d care to own a pair, but they’re surprisingly comfortable. They were a bit big, so maybe getting them wet will shrink them down a size, and then they’ll be perfect.”
“Maybe the clown shirt is wrecked,” I suggest, feeling hopeful.
“Nothing the dryer won’t fix.”
Double damn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first?” she asks, ever the gentleman. Or woman. I mean, err, well, you know what I mean. Ever kindness incarnate. Rainbows and stuff. Which I most definitely am still put out by and find incredibly annoying. Yeah, definitely.
“I’m good. That rain is probably going to clear up in short order, so I’ll go out and check on the animals.” It’s a good escape plan.
“Okay. Then a shower sounds great.” She walks off toward the bathroom, dripping a soaking wet trail all over the floor on her way.
After all that rain, yeah, she’s definitely the rainbow. That’s what you get when the sun and rain mix together, isn’t it? Except she’s always bringing the sun, and I’m always bringing the rain. I don’t want to think about the sun and rain mixing together better than they should or about those two things creating something that could be unexpectedly rare and beautiful.
And I also don’t want to think I’m getting the heck out of this house, not because it’s hot and stifling and way too humid with the water rising off of everything and the heat already in the air, but because I need to escape the one thing I can’t possibly get away from.
Which is whatever it is that’s going on inside my chest that my head absolutely doesn’t agree with.
CHAPTER 14
Nina
Nothing has changed. I don’t know why I thought getting drenched in the rain together and having a chat after would suddenly make things…I don’t know. Different? That Thaddius would wake up in the morning and be all bright smiles and solutions, and you know what, let’s give it a chance…this marriage thing, but let’s do it for real, starting with a date.
I don’t even know why I want that.
No, correction. I do know.
I pretend I’m not looking out the kitchen window at Thaddius pushing a wheelbarrow full of manure and old straw, his biceps popping, veins lining his smooth, tanned skin, and his faded jeans tight on his even tighter ass when he bends over. He seriously makes farming look so hot. Farmingcore? Yeah, he’s farmingcore. He puts the nice in a nice view. Even from here, I can make out the details, and it makes my heart pulse against my ribs when he looks back over his shoulder and says something to the sheep. It makes his eyes, which are caramel soft in the bright sun, start to twinkle.