Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Knox led us around the store. We got tools and other supplies. I rented a sander, so it would be in my name, and Rem picked out stain.
They also got us the information of a company Knox was contracted with so we could order a large dumpster to be delivered to the house.
“I really like your friend and hope he continues to shop here,” Knox teased, and Remy chuckled. He’d been quiet most of the time, giving his opinion on things but letting Knox and me lead the conversation. That was his way.
“He’s okay.” I reached out and playfully pushed at Remy’s arm.
“How do you guys know each other?” Knox asked.
Remy’s eyes went a little wide for a moment, but I said, “We met when I was in college.” Which was true.
“What are you doing this evening? Want to go to Griff’s and play some pool or shoot some darts?” He glanced at Remy. “Both of you.”
Any other time I would have said yes. Still, I found myself saying, “Probably not tonight. We have our hands full with Remy’s place. Maybe tomorrow.”
I could see the mixed emotions in Remy’s stare. He sure as shit didn’t want to go hang out at the bar with a ton of people he didn’t know, but he also didn’t want to hold me back. I gave him a small shake of my head.
A few minutes later we paid. Remy seemed nervous to hand his card over, probably because of his name, but it wasn’t noticed. Knox helped us fill the back of the truck with all our supplies.
“You could have gone. My shit…it’s not your responsibility.”
No, it wasn’t, but I liked the idea of working on Remy’s house with him more and more. “I have to be at the café early in the morning anyway.”
Remy nodded, and we got into the truck and drove home.
CHAPTER NINE
Remington
Law had spent the whole day working at my place. As soon as we got home from the hardware store, we’d driven up to his house to grab Bear and then went back to mine. I’d made sure to reiterate that he could go out with his friends, that I could finish up on my own, but he’d shaken his head and said he’d rather stay.
Working side by side with him all day had been nice. I was pretty good with my hands when I needed to be, but it didn’t come as naturally to me as it did him. It was like he knew what to do, even if he hadn’t done it before. And when he didn’t know, he watched a video online and solved the problem.
Law cracked me up because he explained everything as he went. If we needed to do something a certain way, instead of saying we did, he always explained why, like he tucked little pieces of knowledge away about everything and thought others should as well. It was something I didn’t remember about him before. Was it new or something I hadn’t noticed?
We’d had breakfast for dinner that night, in the kitchen, together, making omelets and pancakes. It felt like no time had passed, like we were the same Law and Remy, only not in hotel rooms and not together.
Just friends.
A few days had passed since then, and I’d seen Law for a least a couple of hours on each one of them. He spent his mornings at his café, got off at two, and usually around three he and Bear would make their way over. We’d get some work done around the cabin, and around seven, he’d go home. He didn’t stay for dinner any of those days. I always asked and he always turned me down, making deep disappointment spread through my gut.
I played every day, but nothing good, and I still couldn’t write, so I focused on the cabin, which was already beginning to come together.
It was Saturday, around three, when I heard Bear’s nails scratch across the porch, before Law’s footsteps and then a knock. There was this sudden warmth in my chest that had no business being there simply at the knowledge of him standing on my porch. It was fucking ridiculous.
“Come in,” I called out, and he did, just as I reached over from where I sat on the couch to put my guitar in the stand.
“Don’t stop on my account.” Law closed the door behind him and the dog.
“I wasn’t really playing anyway.”
“Still having trouble?” he asked, running a hand through those damn blond curls. I used to love playing with them. He would lie above me and shake his head so they tickled my chest…
“Yeah. I’m not feeling it, and it’s pissing me off.” Scaring me, in fact. I had a job to do, and writing music was an essential part of it. “You didn’t come over here to talk to me about that, though.”