Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Ryan swears under his breath and hits a series of numbers on his keypad. The sound of the locks disengaging is loud in the middle of the night. “Do I need to get Elaine?”
I fight a yawn. “There’s no point. I’ll tell her in the morning.”
He nods and goes back to his book, not even looking up when Bronco enters.
As usual, my knees go weak the moment he’s here. He fills the space of the lobby with his presence, his broad shoulders and big Stetson instantly making the room feel smaller. His red flannel shirt with the long sleeves and dark wash blue jeans cling to his massive frame. He’s so large it looks as if someone tried to sew the clothes onto his body. Half the men in this town must shop at the tall stores. Courage County grows them big and strong here.
He looks me up and down with no clue how much his gaze warms me or how badly I want to run to him and hug him. The closest I’ve ever come to physical affection from Bronco is when he put an arm around me at Vale’s memorial service.
“Show me where the problem is.” When he says those words, I could sink into a puddle of relief. It’s not that I need some gallant man to come rescue me. It’s just been a really crappy few weeks, and the one person who always makes me feel better is here.
I duck my head and turn so he won’t see how close I am to tears. It would be just like Bronco to try and swoop in to fix this, but what I’m dealing with is so much bigger and worse than a leaking pipe spraying in the walls.
I lead him to my living space, trying to ignore the way it makes me tingly all over to have him here. My brother’s best friend is in my home.
Granted, whenever I have this reoccurring dream of Bronco showing up in the middle of the night, it’s not because of some water crisis. No, in those fantasies, he shows up because he can’t deny it. He’s been driven mad by desire and now, he can’t live a moment longer without confessing to me how he feels.
He follows me to the bedroom, and the moment he spots the wall, he murmurs, “I see.”
I nod miserably. You’d think I’d be an expert at dealing with problems like this, and normally, I am. But normally, I have the whole retirement community watching, and it’s my job to show up with a smile and reassure everyone that things are fine. But who’s going to reassure me tonight?
“Can you fix it?” I croak out, hating how brittle my voice sounds.
“Easier than roping a steer,” he announces. “Let me get the water cut off first. I think your side of the building was the one where we started installing turn-offs. It’s common practice now, but it wouldn’t have been when the place was built. Dalton and I have been working on getting it done.”
“I never even realized,” I mutter. I know Dalton is a gardener who works here. He’s good friends with Bronco and more than that, he’s married to Bree who also works here as the nurse practitioner. She’s my best friend. I caught the bouquet at her recent wedding.
“Let me get that water off then I’ll be back,” he says. It only takes him a few minutes to return. This time, he’s carrying a toolbox and whistling a soft tune under his breath. It’s oddly comforting to hear him whistling. If this man who has seen war and combat can whistle in the middle of the night, then my water problem must not be all that bad.
He settles on his knees in front of the wall and gestures for me to join him. I do, making sure to smooth down my skirt. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m still dressed. I haven’t been sleeping, and I hate crawling into bed only to stare up into the darkness as my thoughts spiral.
Lately, I’ve taken to organizing things to help clear my head. So far, I have perfectly alphabetized my kitchen pantry and deep cleaned my stove so pristinely a doctor could perform surgery in my oven. Not sure why a doctor would perform surgery there, unless he was tiny, and I’m getting off track. I blame the exhaustion.
“I’ll get it going with a gator bite tonight. That’s this piece here,” he holds it up to show me. “It’ll clamp on both ends of the pipe. It’ll be enough that I can restore the water. Then tomorrow, while you’re working, I’ll go through and cut out the leaking pipe and replace it.”
“Sure, just let me know what I owe you,” I answer. He does a lot of work around the community center, and I’ve never once seen him accept anything from my aunt. Bronco is the type that helps out just because he can.