Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
But then Easton offers me a small grin. “Good point.”
“So…”
“God, you’re annoying. I don’t know…I mean, I do like the job. I’m not sure if I always liked cars, but I like them now, which is what matters. It’s… I like that I can get lost in it—just me and the car. I like seeing something beat up become something new again.”
Jesus Christ, this man. I sure hadn’t expected him to say that. To feel it? Yes. To tell me? Nope. There are so many layers to him that I wouldn’t have expected, that I don’t think anyone expects, and again, I realize I want to uncover them all.
“What? You’re staring at me,” he says.
“I guess I like listening to you talk.”
He rolls his eyes, and I admit, it sounds cheesy. But it’s true.
“I think that’s cool—how you feel about cars. And how you adopt dogs in need.” He doesn’t reply, and I nudge him with my arm. “You can ask questions about me too if you want.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
For a moment, I feel the sting of rejection, but then he chuckles.
“You’re a police officer because of Travis.”
I nod, liking that he realizes why and that he remembers my cousin’s name.
“Do you like it?”
“That’s a difficult question.”
“You have to answer. I answered yours.”
Again, he makes me smile. “I was planning on it. In theory, yes, but I acknowledge that problems exist within the community. I’m not blind to them, and sometimes it gets me down, makes me wonder if this is what I should be doing, but then I also want to try and make the world a better place. I’ve organized training programs for how to help those with mental-health struggles, and our department puts a lot of money on education, on diversity training and combating racism.” It’s not nearly enough, but I’ll keep fighting for more.
“I can see that…those things being important to you.”
“They should be important to everyone,” I reply, just as Meadow comes running. Pretty Girl is doing some exploring, and Spot is still following her around.
“I think Spot is in love with Pretty Girl,” Meadow snickers.
“There’s quite a bit of matchmaking going around,” Easton replies, but I’m not sure what he means by that.
I look over and watch Spot with her. “He really is trying to woo her,” I tease.
“He’s a regular Casanova,” East replies.
“Ooh!” Meadow looks delighted. “You should name him Casanova! That’s so much better than Spot.”
“That’s a great name, kiddo, but I’m sure Easton wants to get to know him a little more before he chooses.” I don’t want him to feel obligated to take her naming suggestion.
“I like it,” East replies. “Pretty Girl! Casanova!” he calls out, and both dogs come running. Of course, Casanova is only coming because Pretty Girl is, but it’s a start.
“That’s awesome. I hope Dad lets me get a dog soon,” Meadow says.
“You can always hide one in your room,” Easton tells her.
“East!”
“I’m kidding,” he replies, but I see him giving Meadow a look that says he’s not kidding at all.
I couldn’t be frustrated even if I wanted to. At this point all I can do is laugh.
Meadow’s cell rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket. “It’s Dad.” She answers. “I’m at the park with Uncle Archer and Easton. He got a new dog.” He must be saying something because she’s listening before she says, “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” She ends the call and turns to me. “Dad said he’s done earlier than expected. He’s not far from us, so he’s going to come and pick me up so you don’t have to take me all the way home tonight.”
“Sounds good, kid.”
She takes off with the dogs again, and Easton says, “You two are close.”
“Yeah, she’s great. I love the hell out of that kid. She’s got the kindest heart of anyone I know. Cass is the best, of course. He would burn the world down for that girl if he had to, but outside of that, she hasn’t had the easiest life, though you’d never know it to look at her.”
East doesn’t respond right away, looking out and watching Meadow with the dogs. “Do you want them?”
“Want what?”
“Kids.”
I lean against the fence. “I think so. Might be getting a little late for me if I don’t hurry up.” I laugh.
“You’re only thirty-six.”
“Aw, you know how old I am?”
“Only because you’re my brothers’ age.”
I clutch my heart. “You’re killing me here, East.” Today has been the most conversation we’ve ever shared outside of me trying to get him out of trouble. It’s interesting, seeing this side of him. Having him ask me questions like if I want kids, without me having to prompt him.
“I’m sure you’ll marry some woman who’s just as perfect as you, and then you’ll have perfect kids.” His voice has a rougher edge to it than a moment ago.