Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
"One time, one of the dogs got into something outside that didn't agree with them and got sick over by the fireplace. I think he nearly scrubbed the coating off the floor. Maybe we can rig something up to make the cleanup easier," he suggested, turning to hand me the coffee.
With his giant hand, there was no way to take something from him without our fingers brushing. And up until today, I had never given it a thought before. But the little shiver and tingle incidents had me taking a breath before reaching out, sliding my fingers into the small open space between his. As he pulled away, his thumb brushed the length of mine.
And I swear, it was a Lizzie Bennet and Mr. Darcy moment from the Hollywood remake. It took everything I had not to try to shake the sizzle off.
"You alright today?" Ranger asked, gaze on me, penetrating.
I wasn't like Miller.
I didn't lie well, let alone convincingly.
And, I imagined, Ranger was probably a human lie detector.
"I... dunno. I feel a little off."
"Off like you're about to be curled on the couch demanding chocolate, or off like I should sleep with all the sharp objects in my room with me?"
It was almost a joke.
Ranger wasn't someone who would often kid around.
This was as close as he got.
I felt my lips curve upward, shaking my head. "I think I just need to get a little more sleep tonight," I told him, though, really, I could be on the couch demanding chocolate soon. Though I had yet to find the nerve to ask him exactly what was supposed to be done with used lady products. I couldn't figure that would be a comfortable conversation. A small part of me wished it would be Miller visiting again instead of Finn. At least I wouldn't feel weird asking her.
"Are Gadget and Cap taking up too much room? Gadget doesn't need your warmth so much anymore. And you can make Captain sleep on the floor."
"No, I think they, ah, help. You know. With the... bad dreams."
He didn't make a comment on that. Didn't pry. And I had never been more thankful to a person before. "You want to switch? Take the big bed tonight? I can crash on the couch."
Take his bed?
Where everything would smell like him?
The idea was way, way too tempting to agree to do it.
"You wouldn't fit on the couch," I told him with a smile. "No, the couch is fine. I think I should just turn in earlier. Once I finish this. What time will Finn be here?"
"Late morning. You can sleep in too if you want."
Ranger never slept in. Ever. He got up early. Or earlier. That was it. I bet it was partly his military training and part out of necessity, needing those daylight hours to be able to work outside - planting, harvesting, chopping wood, shoring up the animal pens when any weaknesses became apparent.
And the idea of sleeping in while he was already hard at work felt wrong.
"I'll be up," I told him with a certain nod, knowing my system had adjusted to the new earlier hours, that my internal clock was usually pretty good and waking me up around the time the water was just finishing boiling for the coffee.
Usually, I was someone who grumbled at her alarm clock, who had a rough time getting the day started.
It never occurred to me that it wasn't that I was just not meant to be a morning person, but that I simply had no motivation to get up, that my life didn't inspire me, didn't fulfill me at the most basic of levels.
I grew up with an extremely pragmatic mother. Someone who needed to be that way by virtue of necessity, who had no partner to help pay the bills. So she took whatever job guaranteed her the most stability. And when the time came for me to think about work, that was what she encouraged me to pursue as well.
It wasn't romantic.
It wasn't living the dream.
But I was comfortable enough.
Not everyone came from circumstances that allowed them a cushion to chase their passions, to soften the blow if they fell while pursuing them.
And had I been so lucky, I never could have known that this would be what would make me happy. Me, who managed to kill an unkillable pothos plant, who hated bugs, who would have thought that a composting toilet was in the realm of hippie weirdness, and certainly not for me.
But there was no mistaking that this was what my soul had been yearning for. The idea of seeing Gadget and Captain, of collecting eggs, making breakfast for a good man, collecting food that would nourish us, hand washing clothes, getting dirty and achy.
So, like I had predicted, I woke up bright and early the next morning, excited for my day, curious about this elusive Finn.