Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You already put an offer in, didn’t you?” I adopted a stern tone even as I smiled back.
“Patience and impulse control aren’t my strong suits.” He offered a sheepish look. “But I had a Plan B if you hated it.”
“Kissing me until I changed my mind?” I suggested, going in for a kiss myself, but he sidestepped to grab my hand instead.
“And show you this.” He led me around to the back of the house, which had another fenced-in garden area, this one with a mini cabin that was either a playhouse or a fancy doghouse, and either way, I loved it.
“Okay, you win.” I chuckled, pulling him in for a swift kiss. “Finalize your offer. I’m all in.”
“I love you.” Far from unreadable, his expression held such trust and tenderness that every doubt I had about him, this thing between us, the age difference, how fast we were moving, faded in the face of his unwavering love.
“I love you too,” I whispered before kissing him again, longer this time. And before my eyes drifted shut, I took one more look at that miniature house. Fresh paint there, maybe some flower boxes. Little kitchen inside, along with a shelf for books and a small padded bench big enough for a kid and a couple of dogs. Put some paver stones leading to the backdoor, and it would be perfect. Exactly like we were together.
Epilogue
Declan
Graduation day in Mount Hope dawned sunny and clear, the early June perfection everyone had counted on. Gardens were sprouting all around town. Grandma kept forcing baby lettuce blends on our house. Meanwhile, Denver and other cooks had started their weekly treks to the farmers’ market, where strawberry season was in full swing. Rowan had requested strawberry shortcake for a graduation dessert while Caleb’s brother, Scotty, had a cake shaped like a giant donut, complete with pink icing and sprinkles. Like many families, both parties took place in the park by the riverfront.
In fact, there were so many post-graduation parties in the park that they had all started to blend together, younger kids running from picnic table to picnic table sampling various desserts. Denver was operating a griddle for smash burgers at Rowan’s request, while others grilled hotdogs and sausages. John bounced between Rowan’s table and Scotty’s, where the rest of the football team had taken up residence.
Myself, I’d planted my folding double-sized camp chair directly between the two parties. Jonas was helping Wren arrange condiments and side dishes while I’d already finished my task of setting up the chairs and a pop-up canopy.
“Are they letting you go to the Project Graduation party tonight, or are no juniors allowed?” I asked John as he wandered by with a hotdog in his hand.
“Seniors only.” His expression was grim, and I couldn’t tell whether his misery was because of not being included or because his best friend and a lot of the team were graduating. Maybe both. “Work tomorrow?”
“Hell no.” I scoffed at the very idea of making my teenage landscape crew work the day after graduation. “The other guys might not be drinking or wild partying, but I doubt any of the graduates are getting sleep tonight.”
“I’ll get plenty of sleep.” John sounded stubbornly resigned. “I can be there early.”
“You wanting extra money or a distraction?” I’d appreciated the help of the landscape company John and several of his friends worked for, but John was by far the hardest worker on the crew.
“Both. Tired of borrowing Dad’s car.” John gestured vaguely back at the food table where Eric was talking to some other parents of graduates. “I need to keep busy, not think about everyone leaving…”
“Hey, you’ve got the summer still.” I pitched my tone more sympathetic, but like everyone, I was worried about what would happen to John when Scotty and the others left for college. “Don’t rush things.”
“I know. We’re all going camping in two weeks.” He paused to take a bite of his hot dog, wincing at the temperature. “We’ll make the most of summer, but it will go by quickly.”
“Can’t argue with that.” For myself, I would welcome fall as that would mean that much closer to our move-in date. “Well, Jonas and I are old and need our rest, but I can meet you in the kitchen to head out to the farm about nine?”
We were calling the new place the farm until something more catchy stuck, but honestly, I couldn’t care less what the place was named as long as it was ours. Mine and Jonas’s. The teen landscapers were helping with the track rebuild and yard work, and we had hired professional contractors for much of the interior remodeling, but it was still ours, our sweat, our hopes, our dreams, our dirt.
“Is Jonas working at the hospital tomorrow?” John asked, apparently in no huge hurry to get back to his football player friends.