Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I wanted to hate it. I wanted to hate him.
But I liked how cocky he looked standing there with one hand in his pocket, how he had marched over to where I’d been with Kyle and not thought twice before stealing me away.
“And are you?” he asked, arching a brow.
“A little buzzed,” I admitted.
Maybe that’s why I’m in such a “check out Holden Moore” mood…
I sighed then, folding my arms over my chest as I took a seat on the same white bench he’d sat on while I tended his flowers the week before. “I might have used red wine as a crutch to get through dinner with my dad.”
“That bad, huh?”
Holden sat next to me, and though there was plenty of space on that bench, the outside of his thigh pressed against mine.
“You know my dad,” I said.
“Not like you do.”
“No,” I agreed.
“Is he hard on you?”
“Not any harder than he should be.”
Holden frowned, not understanding, but I didn’t want to talk about my father any longer. “I really am surprised to see you drinking.”
It was his turn to sigh. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t usually. But since I’m not playing…” He cracked his neck. “It’s just been a day. I try my best to be okay with this,” he said, lifting the elbow of his injured arm just a fraction. “But…”
“But you’re human,” I finished for him. “And you’re upset.”
His mouth twitched, and he nodded.
A moment of silence passed between us, the music thumping loud from inside as a couple tumbled out through the back sliding door. They glanced at us for only a second before the guy threw his arm around the girl and led her around the dark side of the house.
“I kind of like seeing you a little disgruntled and sad.”
Holden puffed a laugh. “Gee, thanks.”
“I mean it. You’re always so… happy,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “So calm and steady and sure.”
“You know, you almost had as much disdain in your voice when you said that as when you commented on how many friends I have.”
I smiled a bit. “I don’t know… I guess I just don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
I swallowed. “How you can be so happy after what you told me last week… what happened to your family.”
Holden stiffened, the grip around his cup making it creak in his hands. That seemed to snap him out of wherever his mind was trying to take him, and he sniffed, draining the last of his beer before setting the cup under the bench.
“Well, the alternative is to stop living my life,” he said simply, turning to face me with those wide, endless green eyes. “And I owe it to them and to myself not to do that.”
The words were quiet, raspy around the edges as they floated over the space between us. And still, they hit me like a stampede of horses, each one trampling me even more into the hard ground.
Abby’s smile flashed in my mind, her head tilted back on a laugh. And I swore I heard the sound of it, heard the sing-song lullaby of it that everyone around her found so endearing.
I was lost in that thought when Holden nudged my knee with his. He must have noticed, must have seen it in my own eyes where those words had taken me.
I didn’t like that he could see it, what I so easily hid from others.
His brows bent together, and he leaned toward me just marginally, mouth opening like he was ready to ask me where I’d gone.
But I tore my gaze away, nodding toward the cucumbers. “Looks like you’ve got a few more ready to harvest.”
Holden watched the side of my face a moment, like he was trying to will me back to the moment he’d lost. But eventually, he followed my gaze, and out of my peripheral I saw him smile a little.
“Is that you giving me permission to garden?”
I rolled my eyes.
“These will probably be the last ones,” he commented, eyes trailing over the trellis. “It’s a good thing I have football in the fall and winter, because there’s not much to be done back here once the weather turns.”
Something washed over him then, and I realized it the moment it touched his eyes — it was worry, fear.
That he wouldn’t have football this year, either.
“You should share with your neighbors, you know,” I said. “It’s the friendly thing to do.”
“You want some cucumbers?”
“Tomatoes, too.”
He nodded, then smirked like a little kid before he said, “I’ll pick out the biggest cucumber for you. One that’s nice and thick, long…”
I rolled my eyes so hard my eyelids fluttered as I turned away from him, shaking my head.
“What?” he asked on a laugh he couldn’t contain.
“Do you ever get tired of making jokes like a twelve-year-old boy?”
“No, because it’s the only way I get a rise out of you.”