Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
But somehow, his absence felt big.
I watched a movie, falling asleep partway through. I stood and stretched, Barney asleep on the sofa, Miller gone, no doubt next door with his master.
I glanced at the time, realizing I’d been asleep for a couple of hours. The sunshine and activities of the day had tired me out.
I turned to go to the kitchen and stopped at the sight of a man at my table. For a second, I felt the rush of fear, but it faded quickly.
“You were snoring,” Jesse observed.
I shook my head. “Who’s breaking and entering now?”
“The door was open. I was hungry.” He indicated the container of food open on the table. “The chicken is as good cold as it was hot.”
I sat down across from him, pulling the box toward me. I chose a meatloaf sandwich and took a bite.
“You have no food at your place?”
“I paid for this food,” he grunted.
I shook my head. Thorne was back.
“Besides, I came over to get Miller and saw some chick flick playing on the screen and all three of you asleep. Snoring,” he added.
“I don’t snore.”
He held up his phone and hit play. He had a video of me and the animals. Miller snorted, Barney made funny little snuffing sounds, and I was snoring. Not loudly, but I was making an odd noise.
“Not very gentlemanly behavior, taping a lady snoring in her own home,” I sniffed haughtily.
He finished the piece of chicken he was eating and peered into the box, taking a sandwich and biting it.
“My house.”
I started to laugh. “I see your walk put you in a good mood.”
“I’m in a fine mood.”
“I’ll second that.”
We ate in silence for a moment.
“I’m sorry if I ruined our day,” I said quietly.
“You didn’t. It was a great day.”
I peeked at him. He stared down at the table.
“I’ve never told anyone what happened. Not a soul. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. To admit I wasn’t loved.” He looked up. “But telling you wasn’t hard. Saying the words freed them from my brain. Like a relief. I felt lighter letting them out. Letting the pain out.”
“Oh.”
“So, far from ruining anything, you made it better.”
“You didn’t come over.”
“I needed a little time. In fact, I went to bed, thinking I would get a good, solid night’s sleep in. But I had to give up.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t there,” he stated honestly. “So I came to get you, but you were out. And you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
His confession rocked me. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond. It felt too personal—too close. So I chose humor.
“So you decided to raid my kitchen and wait?”
“I was going to give you another fifteen minutes and wake you up. If your snoring didn’t do the trick.”
“Asshole,” I muttered.
He stood, sliding the box back into the fridge. Then he held out his hand. “Come to bed, Pixie. I’m tired.”
I let him lead me where he wanted me to go.
I wanted it too.
The next morning, I peered at Jesse over the rim of my coffee cup. I was wearing his shirt again, and he was bare-chested, his skin gleaming in the morning light.
“I meant to ask you if I could work in the garden.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “You’re asking permission?”
I glared at him, and he laughed.
“Of course you can.”
“And do you have a drill I could borrow?”
He looked concerned. “Maybe. Why?”
“I was thinking of building an herb garden box for the end of the deck. The sun would be perfect there, and it would look nice. I love fresh herbs.”
“You can buy them premade.”
“They’re not what I want.” I picked up a pen and quickly drew out my idea of a wraparound box. “Like that.”
He lifted his eyebrows as he studied it. “O…kay.” He looked at me. “Have you ever used a drill, Casey? A saw?”
“I’ve used a drill,” I scoffed. “I looked it up on YouTube. It seemed pretty simple. Measure, cut, fasten.”
He rolled his shoulders, looking amused. “It’s a bit more complex. How about I go to the hardware store and buy the stuff and build it for you?”
“I wanted to do it.”
“You can help,” he assured me. “You can come with me and pick the wood. Choose your herbs and dirt at the garden center they have. We can build it this afternoon.”
I pursed my lips.
“There are some complex cuts if you want it to wrap around the porch,” he explained. “I’m not entirely comfortable with you using an electric saw. You can assist me, though. Hold the wood, help me screw it together.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
He laughed. “Not in this case.”
“Can I stain it?”
“If you use cedar, not right away. If you go a different route, you could.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I like cedar. It smells good.”