Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Or provide them as evidence.
Riggs then got stuck into a commission he was supposed to be doing during his down time. Sometimes, I hung with him while he did that, due to the fact his workshop was less a workshop and more a man cave, and I liked being out there with him.
Sure, there were lots of tools and work benches and sawhorses and equipment around.
But there was also a beat-up couch, an even more beat-up recliner, a massive flat screen TV, a game console, and to my hilarity, a lot of posters of scantily clad women on the walls. Not so scantily it was gross Ledger would see them, but the sheer number of them was impressive.
He had a shiny motorcycle, heavy on the chrome, parked in there, and two ATVs.
I had started journalling (admittedly, this was mostly about Riggs), so I did it in there with him, finding copious times to study him while he worked. Enjoying the vibe he gave off, the feel of the creative space he entered, the intensity of his focus, and watching the piece he was working on take shape (an intricate arbor made of iron that was going to be installed outside the local fancy hotel with the award-winning spa, the Pinetop Lodge, so people could get married under it).
Since I couldn’t read around him, sometimes I went back to the cabin to do that, and I’d broken the seal on the hammock (which was heavenly).
Then there were my daily trips to spend time with Gia (yes, we were making progress, no, we weren’t making Hutch’s usual progress, yes, he was going to let me have her anyway because he said she moped when I wasn’t around, which, of course, meant my baby needed to come to her new home as soon as possible, this being set at Monday).
I also shared more honestly with friends about how things were going, and yes, this included telling Maribeth all about Riggs (she was beside herself with glee I was “moving on” from Trevor, “finally”—she was more excited when I texted her a picture of Riggs).
As for Riggs and me, we gave up my porch loveseat that was temporarily unavailable to us in order to sit in front of his fire in his living room, and I endured his gentle probing about my mom, my grandfather, and some about Maribeth and Susan and other friends. In fact, my entire life in Chicago.
I knew this was all a lead-up so he’d have the history and know the players when I finally laid the big stuff on him. But he made it safe, and I liked talking about my life.
Though, I tried to ignore how he’d sometimes seem to retreat and get broody when I talked about all I had when I was home. And I did that because it indicated to me, he didn’t like the idea that I’d be returning.
It might not be that, but it wouldn’t be easing into anything at this early juncture in our relationship if I demanded, even carefully, to know his thoughts about that, so I let it be.
When or if he was ready to do that, or I was, we’d discuss it.
We also caught a few more episodes of Only Murders in the Building because it all couldn’t be weighty all the time.
I went to sleep every night in Riggs’s bed, but before I fell asleep, I was elated he spent a great deal of time in me.
And Riggs and I woke up in plenty of time I could do my thing, hustle back to the guest room, change clothes, and he and I could deal with Ledger in the mornings.
He resolutely did school runs, concerned that Angelica might take that opportunity to show and take potshots at me. Also, because it gave him more time with his son.
But tonight, Abigail was over, and we were cooking dinner, and Riggs had decided (and I agreed) that tonight was the night we were going to tell his son and his mother we were a thing.
“Nadia.”
I turned from putting a knife on one of the placemats I bought Riggs to see she was standing by the stairwell column, closed off on the dining room side, but still wood paneled so the part of it that extended into the round room was a feature.
“Call down to the boys, would you?” she asked. “Give them a heads-up dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Will do,” I said.
She disappeared.
I finished setting the table and headed to the window.
Riggs and Ledger were on the pier, had the tarp pulled back on an edge of the fishing boat and were doing something.
The windows were open to let in the fresh air, so I called through the screen, “Guys! Dinner in twenty!”
Ledger turned and waved.
Riggs, who was crouched by the boat, twisted his neck to look up at me, and still, in that position, managed to jut his chin out at me.