Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Exactly.” Jonas laughed heartily. “And eventually, I’ll get back out there too. I did a speed-dating thing a few months ago, but then I remembered how much dating sucks. I’d like to jump right to a settled relationship.”
“Relationships are trouble.” I shook a finger at him. I personally was never going there. I had a stack of reasons and examples of why I was better off alone, but I did hope Jonas found what he was looking for.
“Says you.” Jonas made a go-on gesture before returning to the fridge. “And I better get the chicken on the grill soon.”
“I can help,” I offered at the same time John came clattering down the stairs in workout gear.
“Hey, Jonas. Hey, Tony.” John gave us each a friendly wave. “Who wants to go for a run? Sean said he’d join me.”
A run sounded like exactly what I needed to get my head on straight, but I’d already agreed to help. I glanced over at Jonas.
“Go run,” he ordered me. “Wren and I have dinner. You can help with cleanup after.”
“Deal.” I pointed toward the back of the house where the first-floor suite I occupied was located. “Let me go change really fast.”
In the room that still didn’t feel any more like mine than any of the base housing I’d occupied over the years, I kept thinking about Jonas and his optimistic nature. He’d watched his best friend lose his husband yet remained steadfast in his belief in true love. He’d had multiple failed relationships but wanted to give it another go. I didn’t understand the impulse at all. Love was a risk I simply wasn’t ever taking.
Chapter Four
Caleb
I did survive the shift. Barely. I already liked Tony a little too much. I wished he were more arrogant or meaner. Working so closely together would be easier if I hated the guy. And yes, that was twisted logic, but my lengthy history of ill-advised crushes meant I needed to be vigilant. With any luck, tomorrow, he’d reveal some gross habit or other dealbreaker.
As I exited the station, I squinted against the evening summer sun. Weird to be coming off shift in the evening, but the department was experimenting with twelve-hour shifts instead of the twenty-four on/forty-eight off we’d been used to. The theory was that the schedule change might make recruiting and retention easier. I wasn’t so sure, but with my brother’s arrival imminent, twelves would help me keep tabs on Scotty.
I’d done what I could over the weekend to prepare for Scotty, but I continued to be on edge, skin prickly and stomach wobbly, as I drove to the school parking lot where the camp buses were due to drop off. Scotty had spent the last two weeks at an outdoor adventure camp my mom found for him. It was supposed to be some sort of reset for at-risk teens, and I hoped like heck it had worked.
Giving him a fresh start was the whole point of him staying with me for the rest of the summer and the coming school year. Accordingly, I grinned as campers exited the bus, happy and sweaty teens full of good cheer as they high-fived each other and promised to stay in touch.
“Scotty!” I called out as soon as I spotted his blond head. Like me, he had short-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and slightly pointed ears. Unlike me, he was taller, more naturally lean and muscled, and moved with an enviable grace. No awkward, chubby, nerdy years for him.
“Caleb?” He frowned as he whirled around.
“Bro, he called you Scotty.” One of the teen boys near Scotty slapped his back, jostling his oversized backpack.
“Beam me up,” added a dark-haired kid, and Scotty winced, nose wrinkling.
“Sorry.” Scotty’s mouth twisted as he came closer to where I was standing. “My camp name was Chester.”
“Huh?” I was all in favor of whatever it took to reboot Scotty’s attitude and behavior, but a name change was unexpected.
“Like the Cheetah in the chip ads? It’s because I run fast.”
“Ah.” I nodded as I held out a hand for his luggage. Scotty was indeed a fast runner to the point of earning varsity status in track and football. “So, do I call you Chester now?”
“Nah. Scotty. Maybe Scott.” Scotty gave an easy shrug as he passed over his backpack. “We’ll see if the team gives me a nickname here. You did get me signed up for tryouts, right?”
Sports were seldom far from Scotty’s mind, so I’d made a point of inquiring about football when I’d submitted his registration paperwork. “Apparently, if you sign a waiver and can pay the fee, you’re on the team.”
“No tryouts? Weak.” He groaned. His Portland high school had routinely finished at the top of their division with multiple state championships. Mount Hope was in a much smaller division with pretty much the opposite reputation, something Scotty had taken issue with from the start. “Told you. This year is gonna suck.”