Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“All right. I guess.” I started in that direction but stopped and swung around. Slade was rooted in his spot close to the doorframe, watching me. “You know you’re a control freak.”
Slade chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since you’ve rarely given into me on anything, I feel like I can’t be a control freak. You on the other hand…”
I shooed him and his thought away. It didn’t need to be said. I was mental, for sure, but had rarely ever had control of anything in my life, meaning Slade needed to go on before I felt compelled to debate that with him.
Chapter 14
Mace
Days Later
Tousled around the front seat of Slade’s Jeep, I did my best to point out each rut in the dirt road until I realized he took my direction as action, purposefully hitting the biggest divots in the road. Slade may have grown up in parts like mine, but he hadn’t spent too much time traveling this style of road.
“Am I really bad at driving dirt roads, or is this particular road more difficult?” Slade asked as I anchored a hand on the dash to keep me in the seat.
“Yes, you’re particularly bad at driving on an old country road. Take a right up here. That’s the driveway to my house,” I said, pointing him that direction.
“You were right. You should have driven.”
Unable to keep the grin from spreading, I said, “You apologize a lot.”
“That’s a you thing, I promise you.” A telltale sign of his truth was that Slade’s fists tightened on the steering wheel.
On the turn into the long driveway, I focused on finding the answer to that cryptic statement he’d also used many times over.
“Why apologize to me?” We were halfway up the drive. My house was just beyond a cluster of trees, hidden in the forestry of my property.
“I don’t know. I decided to go with it because I sure as hell don’t understand it. Where’s your house?” he asked.
Mission accomplished. No one knew where I lived unless they already knew where I lived.
“You’ll see,” I said and fisted the finger I used to point that direction. He’d see it soon enough.
“Is it a safety issue that has you…” Slade’s words died off as a smaller—especially in connection to Slade’s home—ranch-style house opened to view. A property I built by myself. Minus the minimalist look of the landscape, it had all the elements of a perfect place to live for the rest of my life.
The sadness that brought this land to me wasn’t the first thing I felt any longer. I’d lived here and worked the land long enough that the whys and hows that got me here weren’t the first thing I thought of when seeing my home.
It was a slow build. The inside wasn’t ready to live in except for the living room, bathroom, and kitchen. I stayed in those rooms and worked on something inside the house most days that I was here.
“I think you’re taking advantage of me being so smitten. I’m not sure I believe you built this house,” Slade said, his gaze focused on the brick, wood, and stone-covered structure.
The colors were various states of brown with an accent of cream and forest green. Those choices weren’t made based on trends, only how it might look amongst all the trees and blend into nature.
“Did you work with a professional decorator?”
“No. I build what I like.” My chuckle hid the pride I felt at the compliment.
“Mace, this is something else. Do I pull to the front?” he asked.
“Or stop here so I’m no longer knocked around your vehicle. It feels abusive,” I teased.
Slade let that suggestion stick and pressed on the brakes, coming to a stop about fifty feet from the house. He shifted into park with his gaze still fixed on the house. In a time of extreme growth and uncertainty landing on me really quickly, I was there in that unstable place again. This time, my heart burst with pride. It was getting increasingly difficult to hide all these happiness bombs erupting over me these days.
“You can drive home,” Slade offered, pushing open the door to his side of the Jeep and stepping out. I rarely had a chance to just stare at Slade, he was the one always looking at me, but this was one of those times. I took in everything about him. The intense summer heat never seemed to touch him. He was fresh and energetic all the time. Slade chose to wear blue jeans that looked made for his long frame. He wore a brown belt that I guessed was expensive, but I couldn’t place why I thought that. The straps and bangles at his wrist were made of the same coloring of his dark jeans and T-shirt stretched like a glove over his taut chest. His profile was everything. The strong, shaved jaw, pouty lips, and dark cap of hair on his head fit perfectly with sunglasses that helped frame his face.