Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
“You got into a fight?” I squawked, surprised.
Yeah, the side of his mouth went a little tighter, just a little higher. “I was young.”
“You’re still young now.”
He huffed. “Younger then. Johnny got into a fight when we were in high school, and Billy and I jumped in. I don’t even remember what it was over. All I remember was splitting my knuckles and bleeding all over the place. It took forever to stop,” he told me, moving his finger just a little, brushing mine again as he did it.
I still didn’t move. “Did you get into a lot of fights when you were younger?”
“A few, but not since. I had a lot of anger back then. I don’t anymore.”
I lifted my eyes and caught those gray ones already intent on me. His features were smooth and even, almost carefully blank, and I wondered what he was thinking. I smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back.
Instead, Rhodes asked, “You? Did you get into fights when you were younger?”
“No. No way. I hate confrontations. I have to be really mad to raise my voice. Most stuff doesn’t bother me anyway. My feelings don’t get hurt that easily,” I told him. “You can fix a lot of things by just listening to someone and giving them a hug.” I pointed at a couple spots on my face and arms. “All my scars are from being accident-prone.”
His snort caught me off guard. From his facial expression, I think it did him too.
“Are you laughing at me?” I asked, grinning.
His mouth twitched, but his eyes were bright for the first time. “Not at you. At me.”
I narrowed my eyes, playing with him.
His finger brushed mine as his mouth formed a full-on smile that could have made me fall in love on the spot if it had lasted any longer than the blink it did. “I’ve never met anybody like you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing?”
“I’ve met people who don’t know what it’s like to be sad. I’ve met resilient people. But you….” He shook his head, his gaze watching me closely in that rabid raccoon way. “You got this spark of life that nothing and no one has taken away despite the things that have happened to you, and I don’t understand how you still manage to… be you.”
My chest ached for a moment in not a bad way. “I’m not always happy. I’m sad sometimes. I told you, not a lot hurts my feelings, but when something gets under there, it really gets under there.” I let his words settle deep inside of me, this soothing, warm balm I didn’t know I needed. “But thank you. That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me.”
Those gray eyes moved over my face again, something troubled flashing across his eyes for a moment so brief I thought I might have imagined it. Because the next thing he said was normal. More than normal. “Thank you for bringing me out here.” He paused. “And giving me a few more gray hairs from the way you were driving.”
He was joking. Hold the presses. I smiled at him sweetly, trying to act normal. “I like your silver hair, but if you want to drive back, you can.”
His huff made me smile, but the way his finger grazed my hand made me smile even more.
Chapter 20
“What are you doing?”
I popped up from where I’d been down on one knee, padded against the gravel by my jacket. I smiled at Rhodes, who had snuck so quietly out of his house that I hadn’t heard the door open or close. It was Thursday evening, and he’d not just gotten home early, but he’d changed out of his uniform and into thin sweatpants—Don’t look at his crotch, Ora—and another T-shirt that I’d seen before. Something about the Navy was washed out on it.
Rhodes really was the hottest forty-two-year-old on the planet. He had to be. At least, I thought so.
Something had changed between us since the day we’d spent on our UTV adventure. We’d even finally exchanged phone numbers once we’d gotten back. Whatever it was, was small and more than likely only noticeable to me, but it felt significant. We hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together since—he’d been working extra-long hours lately—but the two times I had seen him when he’d gotten home early enough and Amos was in the garage with me, he’d given me these long, watchful looks that were less rabid raccoon and more… something else.
Whatever it was had the little hairs on the nape of my neck coming to attention. I really didn’t think I was making something out of nothing either. It was an awareness, like when you’re washing your hair and you’ve held your breath for too long and suddenly there it is, that breath you needed that tells you that you aren’t drowning.