Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“I guess that’s true.” He toyed with my fingers as he thought about what I was saying. “Some large companies bought up land just outside of town, and that brought a lot of new people in from Nashville and Knoxville… all over the world, really. And now that more city companies are letting employees work from home, we have people who’ve moved here from Atlanta and Chicago just to take advantage of the low cost of living and the slower pace of life. Brooks’s husband is from LA, I think, and Brooks moved back from New York.”
“Brooks’s artist husband,” I said pointedly. “Who creates and displays his art right here in the Thicket?”
Hunter grinned. “You met Mal, huh?”
“I did… and felt like an asshole for what I said yesterday afternoon.” I shook my head. “I must’ve sounded like such a know-it-all, telling you what opportunities a person can and can’t have around here.”
“Eh. I might’ve thought so yesterday, but if we’re being honest…” He scratched his beard. “I was at least as much of an asshole as you were. I expected you to come back from Chicago and look down on everything here. I was being defensive on behalf of this little town.” His mouth quirked up. “And myself.”
“You weren’t too far wrong, though,” I admitted, though it pained me. “I expected to feel that way—did feel it when I first drove through town— but there’s something attractive about living in a place where people know you, where you recognize your neighbors at the grocery store and know you can call on someone nearby when you need help.” I took a deep breath. “You made a smart choice, staying in the Thicket. Building your business here.”
“Yeah?” Hunter’s face flushed pink with embarrassed pleasure today instead of anger. “I mean, I agree. Clearly. But what I didn’t say yesterday is that having big dreams in a small town comes with certain challenges.” His fingers traced my palm as if memorizing the lines there. “You don’t just get to follow a path anyone else has laid out, you have to break every trail yourself. People, even my own family, wonder why I’m not satisfied supplying the Thicket area or at least Middle Tennessee. ‘Why the quest for organic houseplant world-domination, Hunter?’” He shook his head, a rueful half-smile on his face. “And that’s not even considering how, logistics-and-distribution-wise, it’s tough running a business when you’re a long drive down a dusty road from your customers.” He knocked his shoulder into mine.
“Oh, well, now you’re speaking my language.” I drew my legs up onto the sofa and faced him. “So, are you mostly trucking your plants to a local distributor at this point? Because overland shipping is convenient but limiting, as you’re finding out, and air cargo isn’t always as expensive as you’d think, depending on where you’d be shipping things, especially when there’s that FBO outside town. I know there are special considerations since the plants have to be kept alive and whatnot, but have you considered…”
I sketched out some of the more obvious transportation and distribution options he might have based on what little I knew about his business goals and the products he was selling. I got so into it that it took me a minute—or possibly more—to notice that Hunter’s eyes had gone glassy and his flush hadn’t gone away.
“Shit. I lost you, didn’t I?” Now it was my turn to blush. “I’m sorry. That was a lot of jargon to throw around when you’re probably still in the midst of a post-turkey tryptophan coma.” Hunter didn’t reply, and my face went hotter. “And, double shit, you didn’t even ask me for help, did you? I did that thing where I just jumped right in to provide solutions when you were maybe only venting about the problem. I got excited, I guess, and—mmmph!”
I broke off when Hunter grabbed my jaw in one hand and kissed me with hot, thorough possession.
“Are you kidding me right now?” he whispered against my lips. “Charlton Nutter, you can be as excited as you want about my business. I can’t believe I didn’t ask you before. You’re a logistics and distribution genius.”
“I, uh… am I?” I wondered. Since I couldn’t remember my own name, I would have to take his word for it. “Okay.”
“Nobody ever… I mean, I never feel like I can talk to people about this.” He sat back, keeping one of my hands firmly in his, and ran his other hand through his hair. “The hardest part about running your own business is that you do it all yourself. I have some pretty great employees, and folks in town are as supportive as they can be, but I’m the guy in charge. The toilet in the office breaks, it’s on me. We get hit with powdery mildew? On me. Tish is out for six weeks because she tweaked her knee while building a tree fort for her grandkids and needs to make sure she’s still getting paid? I mean, technically, that’s on the benefits contractor I pay, but making sure they’re doing what needs to be done? On me. And figuring out a better supply chain system so our business can level up is on me too, except I hadn’t gotten there yet because I was too busy dealing with all the other shit. You’ve given me a lot to think about in five minutes.”