Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Holy shit. You really like this guy, don’t you?”
How could I not? He was sexy as fuck, honorable, funny, matched me with wit, spent his days working with his family and his evenings helping me and trading blowjobs. It was rare that a day went by where I didn’t see him. Yeah, I liked him. “So? I like you too.”
“Yeah, but my dick has never been in your throat,” Isaac countered.
“We’re friends who like to get each other off. That’s it.”
“Whatever you say, and yeah, I compiled all the marketing material. It’s in a folder on your desk. How does he explain to his dad these new random ideas?”
“I have no fucking clue. And thanks.” I let my chair roll over to Isaac’s desk. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you. You’ve uprooted your life to move across the country with me to run a fucking distillery. I…”
He shrugged. “You’re my brother, my family. Like I said, where else would I be?”
“Still…I, um…wanted to talk to you about meeting up with Byron and maybe see what we can do about making this a fifty/fifty thing. If you want, that is.” I knew what it was like to put your heart and soul into a business only to have the rug pulled out from under you. Isaac did as well, and while I knew he would never think I’d do that to him, I wanted this to be ours.
“Wow…I… You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“Are you sure you’re not in love with me instead of Brody?” he teased.
“Fuck off. You’re my family, he’s my…” I didn’t know what in the fuck he was, so I let it go. “Just something to think about, okay? You know I’ll take care of you no matter what.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I know, Cozies.” Isaac stood and stretched. “And on that note, I’m going to demand a night off.”
“You going to see Lauren?” Isaac was much more of a social butterfly than I was. Where I chatted some with Lauren and Rusty occasionally, he and Lauren were now text buddies, and he went to the Barn to have a drink and hang out with her every once in a while.
“Nope,” he replied. “I’m going to shower, and then I’m going to…out.”
I frowned. “You’re going to out? But not with Lauren?” This wasn’t the first time he’d taken off, but usually he said he’d be with her. I didn’t always ask, though.
“Yes. I’m in demand. Who would have thought there’d be so much dick around here? My app has been going crazy.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I joked.
“You could hang out with Lauren, ya know? She was asking about you. If not, call your boy. Use the folder as an excuse.”
And again, I ignored him. “Do you need my car?”
“Yep. And we really need to figure something out so we can get our shit from California,” he added, then made his way upstairs without another word.
I didn’t take his advice. I kept working as Isaac showered and then left. I considered what I’d mentioned about the O’Ralleys, about finding a way to help, but I knew that wouldn’t work. Big Daddy aside, Brody would see it as a handout. Right now, we were helping each other. If I tried to hand over money, that would be a whole different ball game.
With a sigh, I unlocked the desk drawer and pulled Harris’s journal out. It was something I did often when I was alone, reading over his notes about Mitchell Creek, his confessions, his letter to me. While I’d told Isaac what the letter said, I hadn’t let him read it—any of it. Not even the stuff about the distillery. It all felt too…personal, like this secret I had with a man I didn’t know I cared about, one who I grew up thinking hadn’t cared about me, and now had conflicting emotions about.
I flipped through it, read the letter again, then tucked it away in the drawer. The house was too quiet, and I was starting to feel edgy. Hell, the only time I left the property was for grocery shopping or on business-related errands. It still felt weird to be in town. Everyone always had their eyes on me, and it was fucking crazy how many different stories about my past, my family, and my mom there could be. I was fed a different one every time.
Shoving to my feet, I went to the kitchen, looked through the cabinets and the fridge. Of course there was nothing to eat. Well, there were things to eat, but nothing I wanted.
Grumbling at myself, I tugged my phone out of my pocket and sent a text.
I’m hungry. Feed me.
Brody texted back right away: My cock?
Well, that too, but food. You busy? Isaac ditched me.