Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I’m always hurting someone, but Mom has Morgan, and that means Dad has me to depend on.
Mom makes sandwiches and puts those along with chips and drinks in a basket. She asks one more time if I want to join them, and I tell her no, but I can’t stop myself from watching her and Morgan outside, eating by the lake. Would it really be so bad if I took a break? Just to do something fun for me? But then I remember studying is for me. This is how I grow up to be just like Dad.
But why does Morgan get to play? Why does he get to have fun while I work, and then sometimes, Dad still acts like he’s better than me? Sometimes, Dad still prefers him to me. He always tells me when Morgan is better than me at something.
The door opens again, but this time, it’s not Mom’s voice, it’s my brother’s. “Do you want to come play catch? Mom can’t throw a football right.” He chuckles.
Yes. I want to play. Do you really want me to? Or are you only asking because Mom made you?
“No. God. How many times do I have to say I don’t want to go outside! It’s a stupid waste of time! Can’t you ever just leave me alone!”
I hate every single word I just said. Hate the anger in them…the sadness…the jealousy…the meanness. I hate that last part the most.
“Fine. Whatever. I was just trying to be nice!”
The door slams, and I give my attention to my books. Being alone is what I’m good at.
“Rhett?” A loud, deep voice pulls me out of the memory. I don’t know what that was about. I haven’t thought about something like that in a long time. Maybe it was my conversation with Talia today?
When another, softer, “Rhett?” calls out to me, I realize someone is talking to me…in my shop.
I switch off the saw and turn around to see Tripp Cassidy standing in the doorway.
I rip off the goggles. “What are you doing here?” The harshness in my voice makes me wince. “Shit. Sorry.”
“There you go apologizing again. We’re gonna have to find a way to stop that.” He grins. His cheeks are pink, I assume from the cold.
“What are you doing here?” I ask again, this time without the bite. My stomach flips uncomfortably. He’s in my space…seeing my things. Tripp is a fucking carpenter, for Christ’s sake. He’s probably wondering why I’m wasting my time. My work can’t be nearly as good as his.
“I came by to thank you for coming to Meadow’s party. You disappeared like Cinderella. I even looked for a glass slipper afterward and everything.” He gives me a playful smile. “Anyway, I went to the door like a normal person. I promise. But you didn’t answer and, well, I’m a carpenter. I’d recognize the sounds I heard from a mile away. I was curious.”
“It’s just for fun,” I say, not sure why I’m excusing myself.
“Holy shit. These are great. Did you make all this stuff?” he asks, walking around the shop, studying each piece.
Nerves attack my gut. “They’re not very good. It’s just something I do for fun. I’m not a professional.” I follow him, unsure how I feel about Tripp touching everything, and wondering what he’s thinking as he scrutinizes every piece.
“They’re incredibly good. I would know.” He winks.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Play games with me.”
Tripp frowns. “I’m not. I didn’t know you like woodworking.” He runs a finger along one of the shelves. “What experience do you have?”
“None other than messing around out here. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing, though.” The admission comes as a surprise, and I do my best to ignore it.
“What else can you make?”
Why is he asking me this? “I made the swing on my porch, my dining-room table, some cabinetry. It keeps me busy since I left my job.”
“You should work with me.” Tripp shrugs as if he didn’t just… Did he offer me a job?
“Wait. What? Why would you want to hire me?”
“Honestly, it would only be part-time at the moment. My employee quit. He and his family moved down South. Wanted warmer weather, and since things are slower this time of year, I haven’t hired anyone else. If you’re interested, you could help me out a couple of days a week until you decide what you want to do. No obligation or anything.”
I feel like I missed a step in this conversation. “You’re offering me a job?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I need the help, you’re possibly available, and you’re good with wood.”
My stomach flip-flops for some reason.
“Wow. I just realized how that sounds. I didn’t mean it that way.”
The innuendo clicks into place. “I wouldn’t have even considered that’s what you meant.” Is Tripp into men? I’ve never heard anything about him being with guys, but then, I don’t typically pay attention to those kinds of rumors anyway. I’ve never seen him in a relationship with a man, but I haven’t seen him with anyone since his ex-wife left.