Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Still, I gave myself a little spritz of perfume before switching off the bathroom light and heading into Elliott’s room. “Hey, you. Time for bed.”
“Five more minutes?” he pleaded, as always.
“Nope. It’s been a long day. And people wake up early on a farm. I heard you tell Beckett you were going to help with the morning chores.” From his small suitcase I pulled his unicorn nightlight and plugged it into an outlet by the bed.
“He said I can feed the goats,” Elliott said excitedly.
“Well, then, you better get to sleep. If you miss the wakeup call, someone else will do it.”
Elliott handed me his iPad without further argument.
“Did you brush your teeth already?”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“No. Smell my breath.” He leaned over the bunk’s rail and blew air on me.
“Good enough.” I took his charger from his backpack and plugged the iPad in. “I love you, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I love you too.” He blew me a kiss. “Night.”
“Night.” I blew one back.
Leaving his bedroom door cracked open, I headed toward the stairs in my bare feet, but curiosity got the better of me when I passed Beckett’s open bedroom door.
Pushing the door open all the way, I stepped inside and glanced around. With the hall light on behind me, I took in the king-sized bed—made, but with rumpled covers, as if it had been done quickly, or maybe in the dark—the dresser and mirror, the nightstand and lamp.
On the dresser were a few framed photographs, and I couldn’t resist taking a closer look. I tiptoed deeper into the room and picked one up. It was a family shot taken at our high school graduation. Beckett stood with his father on one side and his two sisters on the other. Everyone was smiling broadly, and the deep blue of our graduation robes brought out the color of Beckett’s eyes. Suddenly I remembered taking the photo, using a camera that belonged to one of his sisters. I’d also posed for a picture with Beckett that day. Later, he’d given me a copy of it, and I’d kept it on a bulletin board in my freshman dorm room. It had gotten lost in one move or another—I wondered if Beckett still had a copy.
Replacing that frame on the dresser, I picked up another one. This photo was of Beckett and an adorable little dark-haired girl about four years old who was riding on his back, her arms around his neck in a death grip. She had her cheek pressed against his, and both of them were grinning. I figured it must be one of his nieces, maybe even the one who liked unicorns.
The last picture was of Beckett, Enzo, Griffin, and Cole, wearing huge grins, ball caps, and dirty baseball shirts that said Bellamy Creek Bulldogs on the front. It looked fairly recent. Smiling, I set it down. There was something so comforting about knowing their friendship had endured. It spoke volumes about their character.
With one last glance at that big bed—did he always sleep alone? I experienced a sharp-edged stab of jealousy for any woman who’d spent the night with him—I snuck out of the room and hurried down the stairs in my bare feet. Beckett was sitting in the middle of one couch looking at his phone, but he got up when he saw me.
“Have a seat,” he said, keeping his voice low. The sun had gone down and only one lamp was on, making the room cozy and intimate despite its size. “I’ll grab you a beer.”
“I can get it.” I went into the kitchen, where I pulled a beer from the fridge. After tossing the cap in the trash, I went back out to the great room. Briefly I wondered if I should choose the couch opposite him, but since we had to stay a little quiet so we wouldn’t wake anyone, I decided to join him. I sank into the corner, tucking my feet beneath me.
“Cheers,” I said, holding up my beer.
Beckett lifted his eyes from my legs and touched his bottle to mine. “Cheers.”
We both took a sip. The windows were open, letting in the sounds of an evening out in the country—no traffic, no sirens, no next-door neighbors blaring music on their patios—just the chirping of crickets and the buzzing of June bugs. A soft, warm breeze brought the scent of the fields. I took a deep breath and let it out.
“Elliott in bed?” Beckett asked quietly.
“Yes, and he wants to get up in time to help feed the goats in the morning, so I told him to go right to sleep.”
Beckett chuckled. “Sounds good, but that’s gonna be early.”
“How early?”
“Usually just after five.”
My eyes widened. “Here I thought school mornings were bad.”
“Eh, you get used to it. And I’ll tell you what, I’d rather wake up at five and head outside than get in a car and go to an office.”