Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I joined him in his room just as he tossed something on the big bed. In the beam of the flashlight, I soaked up all the information I could gather. No photos in here, aside from one of his daughter on his nightstand. A big painting hung over the bed instead. Someone had painted Ty’s boat on the calm water, with the dipping sun reflecting on the surface.
Whoever had painted it knew what they were doing. The attention to detail reeled me in, from the teal-colored water right at the time of sunset to the lone fishing rod attached to the boat and the mangrove islets in the distance. Everything looked so damn peaceful in the evening colors.
“Who painted this?” I asked.
“Hmm? Oh—Marina. She inherited both her mama’s eye for art and my engineering brain. See if these fit.”
I walked over to him and accepted the sweatpants and a T-shirt.
I shivered at the cold as I stripped off my undershirt too, and given that Ty had no issues getting naked to put on something warmer, I didn’t have to pretend to be modest either. Soon enough, we’d changed into sweats and tees, and we were ready to crank up the heat.
On the way downstairs again, Ty said he’d get a fire going in the living room, and he asked me to grab two mugs in the kitchen.
“See if you can find some insta-coffee in the cupboard next to the freezer,” he added. “There’s filtered water in the fridge.”
Yeah, without electricity, using the coffeemaker was out. “Will do.”
In the meantime, Ty opened a door to a space under the stairs and hauled out logs for the fireplace.
I aimed the flashlight into the kitchen. A cozy little area in pale blue and white. No clutter whatsoever, not counting a pile with mail and magazines on the round kitchen table.
The sink and counter faced the windows, so the view was of the street, which…yeah, that explained the frosted adhesives on the bottom half of the window that offered a sliver of privacy from anyone walking by on the sidewalk outside.
“Christ.” I stopped short at the sight of the trees bending in the wind. They were smaller trees lining the sidewalk, but still. It had to be gruesome weather to bend trees.
“Go nuts if you’re hungry too!” Ty called from somewhere. “Ain’t much we can do if my computer doesn’t have juice.”
True enough and— “Shit,” I cursed. Only to sigh and shake my head to myself. “Guess who forgot the tentacle sleeve in the car?” I hollered back.
I heard him laugh. “There you go. We’ll do that another day.”
I liked the idea of “another day.”
I opened the fridge and got one more glimpse of how Ty lived his life. He’d obviously gone out for groceries as soon as he’d returned to DC. All the fruit was washed and sorted into bowls. Fresh strawberries, apples, bananas, pineapple cups, loads of greens and other vegetables. Even the eggs were placed in a bowl. Meat that wasn’t wrapped in plastic like it was when you bought it at a regular store. Each packet was wrapped in paper, labeled sirloin, ground beef, Italian sausage, short ribs, and brisket.
I eyed the contents of the door, not spotting a whole lot of condiments. He kept two small pitchers with milk and cream, no cartons or anything—he’d labeled them with a marker. Everything was organic too.
Sure, he had some barbecue sauce, ketchup, mustard—shit like that, but the brands were new to me. No added sugar, no additives, locally produced.
Huh.
My mind spun as the image of Ty became clearer and clearer.
He wasn’t on a diet. This was his hedonism. Much, much more than a kink. It was a major part of his life. And even though I’d witnessed him chow down on pizza and burgers, it was easy to see that Ty avoided processed foods and chemicals. He lived for the simpler things, like catching his dinner straight from his boat, like being one with the wild nature in Florida, like caring for animals.
In that moment, a wave of attraction washed over me.
Add the technical inventor in him, the one who loved to create and build…
I cleared my throat and grabbed the water before closing the fridge again. Hopefully, the power would come back on before anything in there went bad.
Once I had everything I needed, I left the kitchen and headed for the living room. The sound of fire crackling—and the bright glow—guided me there.
Ty had his back to me and was looking out the window of the patio door. So maybe they didn’t have a front yard, but there was a tiny backyard currently being knocked down by a storm. Two wooden chairs had been flipped over out there. A grill too. I didn’t see much else. It was too dark.