Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
And the dread wins, upending all my plans for the day.
Cursing up a storm, I check the time, then the time of Nisha’s text. She sent it about forty minutes ago. Tahoe is thirty minutes from here in good weather.
Which means . . .
A flash of bright green appears in the corner of my eye.
Sporting big black pawprints.
Then, the crunch of tires on gravel lands on my ears.
It sounds like Darth Vader’s theme song.
There is no holing up in this cabin, there is no love confession, and there is no private moment to tell River I want him to be the start and end of my days.
Nope, not when Tobey’s green vet-mobile pulls into the driveway and parks right next to River’s little red car. Nisha’s cousin is a mobile vet in Tahoe, and I wish he were here to tend to a four-legged friend instead of a two-legged mammal who should have said something last night.
This is the problem when you wait for a perfect opportunity.
You miss it.
Before Tobey gets out of his van, I speed down the hall, turn into the bedroom, and cross the distance to the bed. The man I’m in love with is still fast asleep.
A soft snore fills the silence. Holy fuck, that’s cute. I’m so going to give River a hard time about snoring.
But first, I set a hand on his shoulder and gently rustle him. “Hey, you.”
Flipping to his side, River’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright. “Did they deliver the jelly beans? I’m not making Moscow mules with those. Send them back.”
I drop my head to my hand, laughing hard. “River, you’re dreaming.”
River blinks, rubs his eyes, meets my gaze. “No jelly bean delivery?”
I shake my head. “You don’t use jelly beans in Moscow mules. We’re in Markleeville. In Declan’s mom’s cabin. Nisha just sent her cousin to take us to her place. He’s here.”
River furrows his brow, then yawns deeply. “Ohhhh. Right. Okay.”
His gaze drifts down to the covers, sliding below his hips, giving me a tantalizing view of his V-line. But right when I’m about to say, “Damn, you look good” the doorbell chimes.
An insistent church bell sound.
River sighs again and tosses the cover to the side, and I groan in appreciation of the naked sight of him.
“Let me make myself presentable,” he says, then strides across the room. My eyes follow him as he heads to the bathroom.
Then I leave and go straight for the front door.
I swing it open.
Nisha’s cousin looks nothing like her. Nisha takes after her mom’s side of the family, her Indian heritage strongly represented in her striking features. Tobey’s the spitting image of the actor who played the best Spiderman.
The one he shares the first name with. He has the same youthful vibe too, which tracks, since Nisha’s told me he’s some kind of whiz kid, and finished college and vet school early.
He gestures dramatically to the green van. “Your Friendsgiving chariot awaits,” he says.
“Thanks for the save. By the way, I’m Owen,” I say, extending a hand for him to shake.
“Tobey,” he says.
“Why don’t you come in for a few? River is just getting ready. And I should straighten up the kitchen.”
Nisha’s cousin steps inside, and I shut the door.
The spell of last night is officially broken.
19
OWEN
As I dry the hot cocoa pan with a dish towel, Tobey surveys the digs.
“Not gonna lie. I felt a little bit like a Navy Seal coming to rescue you,” he says, sighing happily.
“The Navy Seal Friendsgiving Cabin Retrieval Operation? Codename: Fetch the City Guys?”
“Exactly. I was all covert ops when I was driving up the hill, braving the elements,” he says.
“Don’t Navy Seals save people from water and foreign dictators?”
Tobey waves an arm airily. “Melting snow. Bad road conditions. It’s all the same.” He swats my arm. Friendly dude, this guy. “C’mon, work with me. This is like my one and only opportunity to come through and be badass.”
Smiling, I tuck the pot away in the cupboard. “You save animals’ lives. That’s already badass.”
He raises a make-a-point finger. “That is true. I’m going to start calling myself the Badass Vet.” Tobey lifts his wrist, checks the time on his watch. “Is your friend taking the world’s longest shower?”
I flash back to yesterday, to the way I ribbed River about his time spent getting ready, then to last night. The two minutes we spent in the shower cleaning up after sex. Will it be the last shower I take with him? Or the first of many?
I wish I knew.
“Some guys like long showers. But he’ll be out any second, I’m sure,” I say, using my best diplomatic-PR-guy voice, sliding into my I-can-smooth-over-any-situation tone. “Why don’t we load up?”
“Like a Navy Seal would do. I like it,” Tobey says, and we grab the cooler with the veggies, River’s with the pie, then my backpack.