Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I was halfway through spreading my mayo on my sandwich—no one liked soggy bread—when there was movement to my right.
I glanced up to find a figure heading my way with his own lunch box.
My breath hitched when he walked right up to me and jerked his head at my track.
I opened the door and said, “I’m sorry, but my ass is bougie. I don’t sit on dirt. Or snow.”
His lips twitched. “What are you having for lunch?”
I showed him my box.
His eyebrows lifted. “That’s impressive. Are you going to eat all that?”
“I ate almost all of my food last night, didn’t I?” I teased.
Honestly, I wasn’t going to eat all my food. I always brought extra in case I got a little snackish toward the end of the day. But I had more than enough to share.
He chuckled and hopped up on the track of the excavator and sat down, his long legs dangling over the side.
He opened his lunchbox and pulled out the most sorry excuse for a sandwich I’d ever seen.
“You really went all out,” I teased.
He grinned. “Gas station has pretty okay sandwiches.”
“Pretty okay?” I snorted. “That’s a glowing review for them. You should definitely post the review and assign it four stars.”
He took a bite of his sandwich and looked out at the sloping countryside in front of us.
“I didn’t know that you worked for Bunyan’s.”
Bunyan’s was actually Paul Bunyan’s Custom Homes. Mr. Bunyan was a great guy who was a huge supporter for military and gold star families.
Once a year, he hosted an event at his estate—seven hundred acres on the side of a mountain, that encompassed part of the river and valley below—and invited twenty gold star families out to hunt, fish, and have a great time at the mountains.
He seriously was one of the best people that I’d ever encountered in my life.
Though, his children were doing their level best to fuck that up.
Paul had two children, Prater and Paul Junior.
They hated each other’s guts, and both ran two arms of the company.
Prater was the brother that ran the sister company that it was obvious that Meo worked for. Paul Junior ran ours. Though, to be completely honest, I liked the atmosphere on our side.
I’d heard that Prater was a bear to work for, and always paid his employees late.
Meanwhile, we got bonuses for every major holiday. We had company-wide parties on the more non-exciting ones. And our retention rate was a hell of a lot higher.
I never saw the same crew more than once when we encountered each other.
“I didn’t know you did, either,” I said. “How’s it on the rich side?”
He snorted. “Can you call it rich when your paycheck is a week late?”
I squeaked. “A week?”
“That’s why we needed your crew. Our crew wasn’t willing to work for no paycheck. In fact, I’m fairly sure the lot of them quit. The only reason I stayed is because I know that Paul Senior will take care of us.”
That hadn’t been what I’d heard earlier…
“But geez, I can’t believe you even have to worry about it. I’m not about the working for free life.” I gestured toward the cab I was sitting in. “If they’re going to give me a non-paid lunch hour, I’m taking it.”
“Agreed.” He chuckled. “You got soup, too?”
I lifted the thermos and took a spoon out of my bag. “Yep. To go with my grilled turkey and cheese.”
“Looks good,” he said, going back to his sorry sandwich with his wilted lettuce.
I took a healthy scoop of soup and then grabbed my sandwich for a dip or two.
Once I started to get full, I reached for my chips and snacked on a few of those before I realized my big breakfast was proving to be too much for me.
“Hey.” I tapped the big man with the toe of my steel-toed boot.
He looked over his shoulder at me.
“I know that it’s weird, since I’ve already been eating it, but do you want my sandwich and soup?”
He held his hand out for it, and I grinned before handing him the thermos and the half sandwich.
He placed the sandwich on top of his lunchbox and took a sip of the soup.
“Damn,” he murmured. “What is this?”
“Hearty potato,” I answered. “The sandwich has only cheese and turkey on it, though. That way you can go for a dip without a lot of conflicting tastes.”
He went for a dip and ate it off the same bite that I’d left behind.
Something inside of me preened at the thought of him not being afraid to eat after me.
I didn’t have cooties, but sometimes it was weird for people to eat after another person they barely knew.
Hell, my ex hadn’t been able to eat after me even after we’d been engaged for half a year.
Hell, he barely kissed me with an open mouth.