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)
Hem’s tongue still lolled dryly from her mouth and her eyes were wild from the road.
“You speed demon,” Bram said affectionately, sticking out his knuckles for her to lick in an attempt to uncross her eyes.
There was a coffee shop, a secondhand clothing store, two art galleries, a handful of restaurants, an ice cream place, and several stores that seemed to deal in Wyoming-specific wares that Bram couldn’t quite clock. There was also an antique store, a fabric store, and a movie theater. The marquee announced that the Odeon was currently playing a film called The Omega Man that Bram had never heard of, but that weekend the Saturday night showing was part of their classic film series.
“Should I go?” Bram asked Hem.
He’d always preferred making things with his hands or exploring the outdoors to movies, but this was a new town, and he was a new Bram.
At least, he was trying to be.
He was trying to be a Bram who didn’t trust quite so easily. Who didn’t miss the signs of disaster that were right under his nose. Who didn’t get his heart stomped on by two of the most important people in his life.
So maybe this Bram also liked movies?
“You lost?” came a voice from the front door of the theater.
It was a man dressed in an outfit that seemed from another time. He had red hair combed into an impressive pompadour and had his thumbs hooked in his suspenders.
“Oh, not really. More...getting the lay of the land.”
“Sure,” the man said. “Let me know if you need any help. I’m the newest arrival to town, so I can tell you where things are using actual street names and miles instead of landmarks you don’t know because Mrs. Mankowitz’s burned down sixteen years before you arrived.”
Bram chuckled and held out his hand.
“Bram Larkspur. Usurping newest arrival.”
“Henry Finch,” said the redhead, his grip warm and dry, “and I’m very happy to cede the title. Not that it’ll do me any good. Or you, for that matter. We’ll both be the new arrivals until we die. Just how Garnet Run works.”
“Did you say new arrival?” another voice said.
Olympia was a small town, really, and the Larkspurs were known by reputation. You couldn’t really be a family of seven living on a mostly-off-the-grid farm without people knowing of you. But it was also the kind of casually chill place where people greeted you with a nod or an eyebrow raise. This sudden hailing of not one but two people in close succession was slightly overwhelming. But, hey, Bram had said he wanted to make friends—maybe this would be the beginning.
Bram turned to find one of the most striking men he’d ever seen ambling toward them, his walk liquid and his eyes almost silver. He had long black hair and sinuous tattoos on most of his visible skin.
“Hey, Rye!” Henry said. “This is... Sorry, I already forgot your name.”
“I’m Bram.” He held his hand out to Rye.
“Rye Janssen. And what the hell are they putting in the water in Garnet Run, because it seems like the population of hot guys increases every time I turn around. And I am including myself in that comment.”
His smile was sharp, and he looked at Bram appreciatively, but it was a casual once-over, and Bram felt only the warmth of friendship from him.
“Just arrived,” Bram confirmed. “From Olympia.”
He opened his mouth to answer the questions everyone else had asked next, but Rye had already lost interest in him apparently, because he dropped to his heels on the sidewalk and held out a hand for Hem.
“She’s gorgeous. What’s her name?”
“Hemlock.”
Rye grinned. “Dark. I like it.”
“Oh, it’s a tree...” Bram began, but Rye just winked and said, “Yeah, and a poison.”
“So, you mentioned some directions,” Bram said to Henry. “I’m looking for a place to get some supplies for Halloween decorations. Apparently this street I just moved to has an annual contest—”
“Oh shit, did you move to Casper Road?” Rye interrupted. “Wicked! I’ve got to get over there this year and see all the haunted houses.”
“It seems fun,” Bram offered, though fun was not quite the right word.
“Gotta make your own fun here,” Rye said. “Or if you’re Henry, you make all of our fun.”
He nodded to the theater.
“Did you...make this place?” Bram asked.
“I restored it.”
“Wow. I thought I might come to the showing on Saturday night. I haven’t seen that many movies, but...”
A look of horror flashed on Henry’s face before he schooled his expression. “You definitely should come,” Henry said.
“Um, anyway, do you know where I could get some things for decorations?”
“What’re you looking for?” Rye asked. He smirked at Henry’s horror. “My boyfriend owns the hardware store.” Rye’s face lit up adorably when he said the word boyfriend. “So he could hook you up with lumber or tools or paint. But if you want, like, craft stuff, you should totally check out Miss Miriam’s.” He pointed at the fabric store. “She has the weirdest combination of crafty stuff. Like, bins of multicolored puffs and googly eyeballs and every marker ever made. That kind of thing.”