Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I don’t think she hears your warning with that loud ruckus, buddy.” I offered him a carrot slice, and he gripped it with his claws and picked at it.
It’d been fifteen years since I’d rescued him outside Miami, where he’d escaped an abusive owner and our fucked-up pet trade. Given minimal information, we only knew he was around twenty years old, some kind of Amazon parrot, primarily green but with a little bit of blue and yellow on his crown, and he absolutely hated sunflower seeds, to the point where he got aggressive.
He stayed with my mother when Marina and I were in DC.
“Can you give Ty a kiss?” I asked.
“No thanks!”
I nodded, figuring that would be his response. These days, he only gave kisses to Marina.
“Maybe later. I’ll leave the carrot for you here, all right?” I slid the cutting board closer to him and left the knife in the sink.
“Men suck!”
Well, then. Couldn’t wait to hear what that was about.
“You know, you’re not so great yourself.” I left his curmudgeon ass behind after making sure Terra had water.
Then I opened the patio doors and stepped out onto the patio.
At least I didn’t have to worry about Jet following. He disliked the outdoors too.
I released a breath and took in the scenery.
The sun was dipping lower.
It was so fucking beautiful out here.
The water was our backyard. Crystal-clear turquoise water with a sandy white bottom all the way out to the mangrove islands. Who the fuck needed a backyard when you had this?
I eyed my girl’s potted plants along the wooden fence, and I vowed not to kill any while I was here. I’d overwatered her lemon tree last summer, and she claimed I’d killed her hibiscus. They were her pride and joy. She’d built the flower beds herself too, some wooden crates, some cement pots to keep the wind from toppling them over. It was a tiny tropical garden, an explosion of color, that separated our deck from the boardwalk on the other side of the fence.
“Well, hey.” I snuck closer to her trail of succulents in the shade of some tiny tree, where I spotted a li’l snake. “What’cha doin’ here, buddy?” Definitely a corn snake, had to be a hatchling. Maybe a couple months old. I picked it up, and it coiled its tail around my thumb. “Let’s get you back where you belong.”
I opened the gate and stepped out onto the boardwalk. Each house was separated by shrubs and low bushes, and I’d made sure the two lots flanking our house had good soil, good sand, rocks, and hiding spots for reptiles and amphibians. Except for iguanas. Fuck iguanas. We did what we could to keep them off our island.
Squatting down, I reached in under a bush and let the snake slither onto a rock. While normal people bought firewood to warm their homes or start a bonfire, I bought firewood occasionally to hollow it out and make snake shelters. This little guy could find plenty of those here.
With my good deed done for the day, I returned to our patio and cocked my head at the sight of our barbecue area. How the fuck had I missed that? It wasn’t like the deck was big by any means. But yeah, Marina had cleaned up out here too. The Adirondack chairs were positioned neatly around the firepit, she’d given the round tabletop a fresh coat of oil, and the umbrella that covered most of the seating area was fucking new. She’d replaced the old one.
Marina wanted something. My inner dad alarm went off, with sirens and everything. She wasn’t merely tidying up for my arrival. The girl had an agenda.
Terra came out and huffed at me, headbutting the gate, so I grabbed my beer again and let her out.
She immediately crossed the boardwalk and jumped into the water.
I snorted.
“What do you think she wants?” I asked…my dog. “She’s canceling Christmas again, isn’t she?”
Terra paid no attention. She swam around in circles in the approximately two-feet-deep water. She never ventured far. It was fairly shallow inlet, maybe six or seven feet at the deepest, which was why most boats were farther away.
“She’s canceling Christmas.” I was sure of it.
Taking a swig of my beer, I glanced up toward the upstairs terrace, but I couldn’t see her.
We were absolute shit at celebrating holidays. I’d never cared much, though I’d made an effort for Marina’s sake, but once she got older, breaks were used to travel. On the other hand, she was already going to Mexico on the twenty-sixth. It was the whole reason I’d invited a group of people down from DC.
I needed more friends in my life, even more so since Colt and his man had included a third guy in their relationship maybe six months ago. They were always busy. My once-a-month happy hour with Colt had been postponed the past three months. I didn’t mind too much; I mean, we saw each other every day at work. But he’d felt shitty about it, and then… Then I was suddenly recruited into his kink community. “Problem solved. Now you’ll see me so often, you’ll end up leavin’ me,” he’d said.