Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Lainey’s standing there, arms outstretched. “Old habits die hard.”
“I told you to sit.”
“I will after you let me help you. Many hands make light work.” She smirks. “Another fun saying about hands: Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“What does idle mean?” Dean asks.
“Maybe I want yours idle, then.” I nod at the table. “Sit.”
“On it.” She plucks the plates out of my hands.
I let out a bark of laughter. “You’re bad.”
“I thought you said I was annoyingly perfect?”
“Maybe being your kind of bad is part of that.”
Lainey tilts her pretty head. “I like that idea.”
I like you.
I mean, I still hate her for taking Dad’s money for a useless reason. You can’t be enemies with benefits and not hate each other. But there’s a side to Lainey that I…really don’t mind.
Lainey sets the plates on the table, then comes back for napkins and silverware while explaining what “idle” means to Dean.
“This smells so, so good, Colton,” she says as she finally sits down at the table.
I sit too. “Thanks. Took me a while to perfect the recipe. Secret is red wine vinegar. And yeah, lots and lots of actual red wine.”
Same arrangement as before, with Dean sandwiched between us. I can tell he loves it by the way he smiles shyly at his plate.
“This is a really fun night.” His voice is quiet.
My chest twists. Do I worry Dean is lonely? All the time. But I also work my ass off to make sure he has everything he needs.
To make sure he comes home to a loving place.
Fun kinda gets left at the wayside, though. I feel like we’re barely surviving so much of the time, much less thriving.
But this right here? A (mostly) full table, a happy six-year-old, LEGO bricks strewn everywhere? Somehow this feels like thriving.
If only it weren’t also messy in every sense of the word.
“So fun.” Lainey is going to town on her short ribs. She pauses, closing her eyes like she’s savoring the bite she just took. “Colton.”
“Yeah?”
“As much as I hate to compliment you—”
“It’s hard, I know.”
“Ha. But seriously, this might be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Goddamn it, you’re cute. And filthy.
Is it hot in here? I feel like it’s hot in here.
“You’re the worst.” I scoop a parsnip into my mouth. “Also, thank you.”
“Dad is really good at making meat loaf.”
I chuckle. “This isn’t meat loaf, buddy. Short ribs, remember?”
“Oh. It kinda tastes like meat loaf though.”
Lainey nods. “Almost the same concept. What’s your favorite thing your dad makes?”
“Hm.” Dean mulls this over as he shoves another forkful of meat into his mouth. “Probably chicken. And pasta. And steak. Sometimes on the weekends, we make bread together, and then Dad uses it to make French toast.”
Lainey stares at me. “You make your own bread?”
I stare right back. “You don’t?”
“How—”
“Sally’s sourdough starter,” I explain. “She had some to share, so I had her come over to give Dean and me a lesson in how to make it. Once you make your own bread, you’ll never go back.”
A small smile works its way onto Lainey’s full mouth. “I am so impressed, y’all.”
“What do you like to make, Lainey?” Dean asks around a mouthful of food.
“Chew with your mouth closed, please,” I say. “Where did those manners go?”
He swallows. “Sorry.”
“I make a little of everything,” Lainey replies. “I learned how to cook from my mom. She made us dinner almost every night growing up.”
“My mom did too.” I grab a sip of beer. “Now I appreciate what an endeavor that was. Feeding your people is—”
“A full-time endeavor,” Lainey says with a laugh. “How many full-time jobs does that make for you?”
You get it.
You see.
My voice is gruff when I reply, “At least three.”
“You really must not sleep.”
“Not much, no.”
Her eyes meet mine across the table. They’re alive with laughter, the unspoken joke about sex and sleep hanging in the air between us.
I gotta pump the brakes. It’s not normal to be able to communicate like this after interacting with someone less than a handful of times. I don’t wanna miss this woman when she’s gone. Because she is leaving.
I don’t want my son to miss her either. There’ve been enough painful exits in his life already.
But I can’t make myself get up from the table.
Instead, I sit and talk and eat. Dean wants to play thorns and roses again, so we do. Lainey asks what we love about living on a ranch and what the challenges are.
“I went to business school thinking I’d eventually land a marketing job in private equity or maybe just finance in general.”
I screw up my face. “Private equity?”
“You don’t approve, I take it.” Lainey grins.
“Just doesn’t feel like you.”
She looks up from her plate. “How so?”
“Weren’t you just howling at the ceiling? I mean moon? And you say you like drawing and stuff. Private equity…seems kinda dry for someone as creative as you are.”