Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Fuck.
Swiveling back around on my stool, I pick up my beer and take a healthy swig before I look at my best friend.
“You never mentioned that Oli was moving back here.” Those are the words that come out of my mouth, but what I really want to say is, “You never mentioned that she grew up.”
“I didn’t know she was serious about it when she brought it up.” He glances over his shoulder, then looks at me. “Then she showed up, started looking for a job, and told me all of her shit would be here soon.”
“Why so suddenly?”
“I think she’s worried about Dad. You know he ended up in the hospital a month ago because of his diabetes.”
“I remember.”
He nods. “When that happened, I called to tell her what was going on. She couldn’t catch a flight right away because the storms were so bad, and driving would have taken her just as long as waiting another day for the weather to clear.” He shrugs. “I think that flipped her out.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Whatever the reason, I’m just glad she’s back. And Mom and Dad are happy to have her close since the only time they’ve really gotten to spend with her is when she’s come down for the occasional holiday.”
“Your parents never went to visit her in Chicago?”
“They did, but that drive is hard on Mom, and she hates flying, so the visits were few and far between.”
“Sorry that took so long,” Talon says, breaking into the conversation and slapping Liam on the shoulder in a silent hello before taking back his seat. “Mia wanted to know where I put the pumpkin-carving shit from last year, so I had to walk her through how to use the app I set up for all the storage containers in the garage.”
“Shit, that pumpkin-carving thing is tomorrow?” Liam grimaces, and my brother narrows his eyes.
“You forgot?”
“I totally spaced it and made plans to go to Gatlinburg to meet up with a friend.”
“You mean a hookup,” I clarify, and he shrugs one shoulder with a smug smile.
“Well, you can call my wife and let her know you’re not going to be there.”
“Or you could just tell her for me.”
“And miss out on her giving you shit? Not a fucking chance.” Talon laughs, and I grin at the look on Liam’s face. Mia, Talon’s wife, is one of the sweetest women I know, but she is also a ballbuster. No one, including me, wants to be on her bad side.
An hour later, after another beer and a plate of nachos, I pull into my driveway and hit the button for the garage but park outside since my motorcycle and four-wheelers are taking up the interior space. Getting out of my truck, I walk down to the mailbox at the end of the driveway and look over at the house next door. Kourtney’s BMW is there, along with a red Audi I don’t recognize. I wonder if it’s Olivia’s. It’s a nice ride and expensive, making me curious about her life back in Chicago.
After grabbing the pile of what I know is mostly junk mail from the mailbox, I head through the garage and open the door to the house. Gemma, my four-year-old Australian Shepherd mix, greets me with her tail wagging as soon as I step inside while Ira, my cat, watches with her golden eyes unblinking from her perch on top of the washing machine. After giving both girls some attention, I hang up my coat and walk down the hall.
Two years ago, I got my house for a steal when the original owners decided to move to Florida after their youngest left for college. They wanted a speedy sell without putting any money into the property, and I planned to flip it for a quick profit. That didn’t work out.
Over the past couple of years, I’ve done quite a bit of work. I opened the kitchen up to the dining room, updated the flooring and paint, and added all new cabinetry and appliances. I also started to update the bathroom in the primary. But after working on other people’s homes all day, I typically have zero energy to put into this space, so it’s going to be a while before it’s all done. And right now, the housing market is a mess, so I’m in no rush to sell.
Plus, at close to three thousand square feet on almost an acre of land, this house would be a great one to start a family in.
Not that I see that happening for me anytime soon. I work too damn much, and dating is about as fun as getting a root canal, so I’ve avoided it like the plague for a while now.
When I reach the kitchen, I drop the mail on the counter, adding it to the pile already there, then walk past the dining table to let Gemma out the double glass doors. The moment I slide it open, she darts across the deck, down the steps, and into the yard. When I get to the edge of the deck, my attention goes to the right at the sound of laughter coming from Kourtney’s backyard—the same laughter I heard at the bar. Gemma hears it too and runs that way, barking. The electric fence is the only thing keeping her from running next door.