Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Brady tenses, and so do I.
“Uh, I mean…no?” His son clears his throat.
His dad’s brow furrows, and Brady pushes on.
“Just another thing that’s never come up,” he mutters, and my head yanks his way.
Another thing?
“But the others know.” His mom joins the conversation, and now my stomach twists with a sudden anxiousness.
“The boys, yeah.” Brady stares at his dad a moment before looking to me. “There’s no reason,” he starts to tell me, a nervousness to him I’m not used to. “There’s just never been a reason to mention it. The guys really only know because we went through a box of shit in the garage when Dad paid us to clean it out one summer. Chase found one of Mom’s memory books and it had a picture of her and dad on their first date.”
Reluctantly, I sneak a peek at his parents, not really following as I settle my gaze back on Brady. He looks to his dad for help.
But I can’t stand the sight of that helpless expression on his face, not when he’s the surest, most confident man I know. So I take us back to where we’re most comfortable.
“Did Brady tell you he wants to be a Viking when he grows up?”
All eyes snap to me, and while it takes a second, everyone laughs, so I go into a whole explanation that is pretty much nonsense, but it gets the conversation flowing, smoothly shifting things until we’re all laughing.
“Oh, honey, did the flowers arrive okay? You never said anything after you asked me to help you find a place.”
Brady clears his throat and nods, shoving more food in his mouth.
He sent someone flowers?
There’s a little kick in my stomach, but I ignore it.
The doorbell rings, capturing all our attention, and Tisha jumps up. “That’s the contractor coming to take a look at the fence.”
“I thought me and you were taking care of that winter break?” Brady says to his dad.
Ben shrugs, standing and collecting our plates in a pile. “Yeah, well, your mama thinks I’m too old.”
“That is not what I said!” she reprimands. “I said our warranty would cover it and for you not to feel like your man card was pulled when a crew of twenty-five-year-olds show up to do the job.” She smirks, spinning in her flats and heading for the door. “Leave the mess, you two. Get out of here and enjoy being in your old stomping grounds!”
I stand and start to pick up the dishes, but Ben takes them from my hands, brow raised.
“You heard the woman. Get out of here. Keys to my truck are hanging up but be careful. It’s supposed to rain tonight.”
“You’re letting us take the hot rod?” A giddiness settles over me. “You never let us take the hot rod.”
“Well, you’re not high school kids anymore, and it’s not five of you trying to squeeze into a three-seater cab.” He chuckles.
I actually squeal, and I look to Brady, waggling my brows.
He smirks, pushing to his feet. “Well, come on then, Cammie Baby. Seems we’ve got some havoc to cause.” He bends, motioning for me to jump on his back, my preferred method of transportation, but I skip around him, putting my lips to his ear.
“Sorry. But if I jump up, your dad is going to get a bigger show than he bargained for.” Brady tenses, and I slide on by, heading for the door. “I’m driving!”
“Oh hell,” both Brady and his dad say at the same time, and I smirk to myself.
See? Same person.
At first, we just cruise around the town, rolling through the high school parking lot, reminiscing. We get some hot chocolate and walk the town’s main strip, full of small businesses.
It’s a little after two when we hop back into the truck. This time, I don’t tell Brady where we’re going, but it doesn’t take too long for it to become obvious, and an hour later, we’re pulling into a familiar gravel driveway.
Brady looks over at me, but I keep my eyes on the road and soon we’re weaving around to the back of the house, parking in the space between the detached garage and the barn.
Unbuckling my seat belt, I climb out and Brady follows, catching the keys when I toss them his way.
“Are the renters not home?” he wonders, glancing toward the back deck of the house.
I sigh, shaking my head as I start down the stone path toward the barn, pushing the long, sliding door open and looking inside. Right now, it’s just a bunch of haystacks lining the walls, waiting to be sold off with the rest of this year’s harvest.
I take a deep breath, a small smile pulling at my lips.
Brady steps up beside me and I look his way, leading us over to the ladder at the far right. He grabs on to stabilize it and swooshes a hand out. “After you, my lady.”