Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Putting my hands on my hips, I stare at the man. “I’m not really worth all this headache so you can give up now, Dean.” The words leave my lips, but I didn’t mean to say them out loud.
He drops his head, eyes locked to mine. “Don’t ever say that shit again. You’re worth fuckin’ everything, Josie Schneider. I’m gonna prove it to you one day at a time.”
He grabs me by the hand leading me out of my office. “Just let me show you, Jo,” are his last words before we exit.
I’ve never encountered someone so intense yet gentle at the same time. I’m not sure how I can get through to him, he really is better off without me.
How can this ever work?
Nine
Raff
Whiskey and You – Chris Stapleton
“Lo,” I answer the call slightly out of breath after dropping the six-by-six post I have been fighting to set this afternoon.
Typically, I don’t do the manual labor jobs as much anymore. I have employees, entire crews to do this for me. This project has been plagued with weather delays. I had to send my other crew over for a personal matter leaving me to take on finishing up some things here. I’m a little behind my target tasks to complete today. Typically, I leave my job sites at six sharp. With less than an hour left in the day, I’m not sure I’m going to finish my list without going over my schedule. My frustration with the post only grows as I have to decide to work late or stay on time but do double time on jobs tomorrow. The clay ground in this area can be tough to deal with when trying to set a new porch like I’m doing now. I accounted for the hiccup, but not precisely enough. Now it feels like I’m fighting the clock in my mind. Every second keeps passing and I haven’t finished what I planned for the day. I don’t like to deviate from my usual schedule. Do I stay late or go home on time and deal with trying to catch up tomorrow? The same fight I’ve had over and over in my mind for the last half hour. I guess this call gives me my answer.
“Dean,” her voice is soft, laced in trepidation. “I think we have a situation at my house.”
Instantly, the job in front of me is forgotten. My schedule immediately put aside; I react. “Be there in three.” Ending the call, I jump on my bike and take off for home. The tightness in my chest is a painful reminder of the panic I felt once before. This worry for her is something I am familiar with but can’t explain to her … to anyone.
In precisely three minutes I pull into our driveway with a look of confusion as she stands to the side of her house with a hand on her hip with my foreman shaking his head in front of her. I scan the perimeter looking for Brett, failing to find him, I continue to look and see nothing unexpected. What has her timid?
As I approach, my employee backs away returning to work without anything more than a wave. Once I’m within reach, I take her by the hand and pull her to me. Automatically she falls against me. She doesn’t look scared like she sounded, rather, it would seem she’s frustrated. The simple contact of her in my arms settles the anxiety that I felt riding over here.
“What’s wrong, Jo?” I ask before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Did Brett call? Come by?”
She shakes her head. “No. But these men have messed up. They won’t listen to me.” She lets out an exasperated breath. “I shouldn’t have called, I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I should have called Sara to let her have Country Boy help me. I’m sorry.” She’s rambling. “It’s just, it’s your money so I thought they would listen to you. I didn’t mean for you to come home. I thought you could talk to them on the phone, but you hung up, and then poof you’re here.” She is maundering nervously and it’s fucking cute.
“First, don’t ever apologize for calling me for anything. Second, you don’t call anyone but me when you need something. Told you I’m in this at your pace. You need something, even a damn box of tampons, I’ll answer, and handle it. Now, what do you mean these men messed up?”
“They installed your fence at my house.” Her annoyance is evident in each word. “I tried to tell the man over there that they are at the wrong house, but he wouldn’t listen. They keep going. Dean, they only have the one side left!”
I let out a laugh, “Well, looks like you’re getting a fence, Jo. Lots of shit to be wound up about in life, this isn’t it, babe.”