Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Zachary caught himself. Bram was looking at him differently now. At first Zachary read it as suspicion, but no. It was...interest?
“Anyway, I really must get to work,” he said, and turned on his heel, stiff leather of his brogue digging in unpleasantly.
Zachary closed the door behind him. His heart was beating unusually fast.
Probably Bram was just desperate for company. He’d moved to a street where the only other people under fifty had multiple children, so he probably just saw Zachary as something to keep away the boredom.
But enough thinking about Bram and his shoulders and his biceps and the thickness of his chest. And definitely enough thinking about his blue, blue eyes and the way his hair fell in his face when he bent forward, defying his attempts to rake it back.
Nope. Not thinking about any of those things.
Tea, steeped. Drafting table, adjusted to the perfect height. Score from The Trouble with Harry, on. He was ready to begin the day.
The clock clicked over to 8:00.
Chapter Three
Bram
The creature that was emerging from the wood had teeth in unnatural places and wings rising from where wings did not usually rise. It was not a creature of the earth but of the imagination.
And it was all Zachary Glass’ fault. Well, his and that damn magazine’s.
Bram tossed the carving aside and Hemlock was on it like a shot.
“Go ahead,” Bram told her when she paused with it in her mouth, golden eyes looking up pleadingly.
She crunched its wings between her molars, sending the whatever-it-was back to hell.
Bram sighed. He’d never been given to boredom—the world was so damn interesting and there were always things to learn and explore. But he’d also never lived a thousand miles away from all the people he cared about and not had a job before. He groaned. A job. Yeah. He definitely needed to find one, and quick. Not just for the money—six months without paying rent had allowed him to save a comforting chunk of the money from working at the tree farm—but because he liked to have a place he needed to be most days. And it helped him enjoy the time he wasn’t working more.
Blargh I need to get a job, Bram texted his older sister, Birch.
you’ve been there like six minutes, take a breath.
I hate breathing.
*snort* how is it though?
It’s good, I think. Nice people.
uh huh.
What?!
“nice people?” ok stepford wife.
They ARE nice. Well... He thought about Zachary across the street. mostly. They do this Halloween decoration competition every year so I thought maybe I’d participate.
good! That’s a great idea. make some friends, make some weird halloween art. perfect.
Bram saw her ellipsis for a long time, then a series of random letters. Then she wrote: oops gtg millie is destroying everything <3 <3
Love you, Bram wrote.
Millie was his niece, and at three years old she was already clearly going to invent an elixir of life or create a humanity-ending bomb. Bram casually crossed his fingers, hoping for the former.
So, with nothing else to do and Birch’s encouragement front of mind, he decided he might as well start thinking about what his options were for Halloween decorations.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll just... I’ll go into town and get some stuff to make...things...”
Hem cocked her head at him as if to say, What are you going to get? And you don’t know where anything is.
“Well, we’ll explore. Wanna come?”
She barked once and Bram held up his hand. She touched her paw to his hand in a high five.
The black-and-brown Triumph Scrambler was the one thing Bram hadn’t sold when he left Washington. He and his father had restored it lovingly and painstakingly over several years, and even though he hadn’t been able to ride it all the long Wyoming winter, he couldn’t bear to part with it. And he was glad of that come spring, because zooming through the mountains, their tops still crowned with snow as he basked in the sunshine, had been amazing.
“Motorcycle?” he asked Hemlock.
She barked again, and Bram got down her harness from the peg inside the door.
She followed him into the garage and when he patted the backpack she stood on her hind legs and let him strap her to his back.
They got all sorts of funny looks on the road, but no way was Bram risking Hem falling off and getting hurt.
He pulled on his helmet and strapped Hem’s leather goggles to her head, nuzzling her ears as he did so.
They zoomed down Casper Road, the bike, the dog, and the man, and turned onto Route 25 toward downtown Garnet Run.
Small as it was, the main street (called Main Street) was quaint and boasted two or three dozen stores. Bram parked the bike in a street spot off Main and unstrapped Hem.
“C’mon, girl,” he said, unsnapping her leather goggles and exchanging them for a leash.