Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Luke was masculine, in a hard but beautiful way, and it was like nothing I’d ever felt before.
I wandered back out as the bacon began to sizzle in the pan.
“You need some plants in here, Luke,” I said, leaning up against the counter near the stove. “How come you don’t have any on the windowsills or anything?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t spend much time in here, to be honest.”
“It could be nice, though. Some succulents. Maybe a pothos plant or one of those easy bamboo plants.”
He seemed disinterested, focusing instead on the food. It was a whole different Luke than the one that had existed in the bar, in his truck, or in the yard. It was the only place he’d seemed less than totally confident, like some magic inside him had faded slightly once he’d walked in.
He finished cooking in another couple of minutes and headed for the back door again, propping it open.
“And our feast is served,” he said, taking two plates out to the back, setting them down on a picnic table over on the side of the yard. I helped him bring out glasses of water and utensils, and we sat down on either side of the picnic table, under another set of pretty string lights.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You made this picnic table?”
He nodded, taking a big bite of bacon. “It’s like you already know me so well.”
Like clockwork, he seemed happy again, being out here.
“How come you don’t like being inside?” I asked, taking a bite of some eggs.
His eyes darted up to look at me, like he was surprised at the question. “Hm?”
“Just seems like you aren’t as happy inside. It isn’t decorated at all. None of the same TLC. And when we’re out here you’re a whole lot happier.”
He finished chewing, looking down at his plate now. “I am a lot happier outside, yes,” he said. “I don’t like small, enclosed spaces. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Oh,” I said. “I understand. Maybe you could make it nicer in there, though, and it would help? Bring the outside in, sort of thing?”
He just chewed, still not meeting my gaze. “It’s an idea. Not sure if that would work for me, though.”
I let the topic lie. Luke ate like a wolf. After we finished, I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to Rachel, checking to make sure the kids were okay. She sent me back a photo of Cooper and Chloe lounging on the couch, Chloe absorbed in a superhero movie, Cooper playing a handheld video game. Next came a picture of Dayna, happily sleeping.
I knew my kids were safe and happy in Rachel’s new house. But I still felt strange, somehow, like I was failing them just by being away from them.
And here I was, just sitting under the canopy of leaves and lights and stars, with a super hot guy I barely knew. It was so beautiful out here it almost made my chest ache. The sound of crickets and frogs far away filled the air.
“I usually play sounds like these on my phone to help me fall asleep,” I admitted.
He chuckled, pulling in a deep breath of air. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“It’s so peaceful,” I said.
He nodded toward his right. “And now it’s time for me to admit something: I sleep out here probably more often than I do in my bed,” he said, nodding toward the far side of the yard.
I looked over to see a camping tent set up over there, in a small clearing surrounded by trees and flowers.
“You’re kidding,” I said.
He shook his head. “Totally not kidding.”
“Holy shit,” I said, standing up and walking over toward the tent. It was a deep green, blending in perfectly with its surroundings. Luke followed after me, and he bent down toward the tent, reaching to turn on a little electric lantern that was hanging on its front peak. It filled the tent with a warm glow, and inside, there was a whole little cozy setup. Flannel blankets. A stack of books. An old camera.
“That’s not even a sleeping bag, is it?” I asked, bending low.
“It’s a futon mattress and a ton of blankets,” he said. “I told you, I’m out here a lot. I like to be comfy.”
“God, Luke,” I said, ducking inside and lying down on the edge of the futon mattress. “It is comfy.”
The top of the tent had panels of gauzy netting so you could see the outside. The leaves and string lights were still visible.
“And now you know that I’m a total weirdo,” he said.
“This is all so unique,” I said.
It was surreal, and suddenly the events of the evening started catching up to me. For so long, my life had been one way. I had my family, my routine, my everyday habits. And suddenly it had exploded into uncertainty, losing certain things, but getting new opportunities, too.