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)
Still, I’ve learned I have to answer him sometimes, or Dusty will show up at my house like the knight in shining armor he’s always tried to be to all of us Swift brothers.
“What do you want?” I snap, taking my anger at my dad out on him.
“Well, it’s good to talk to you too, brother,” Dusty says with a chuckle. I’m not sure there’s a better, more patient man than him. Well, him and Archer too. It can’t be easy to love any of us, but Dusty loves all of us, even if in different ways.
I sigh. “What is it, Dust?” I ask, nicer this time.
“I have a little time today and wanted to see if you’d like to meet for lunch. We haven’t hung out in a while.”
I know why he’s doing this. Dusty’s always worrying about me, though he doesn’t need to. But I figure this might be the perfect opportunity to mention my new job with Tripp before it starts to spread around all the UP.
“Come over here. I’ll make us something.” The less I’m out around Birchbark, the less chance I have of seeing my father.
“Okay. I’ll be there in about ten.”
I end the call without replying, then go into the kitchen to figure out lunch.
There’s some bacon in the fridge, so I pull that out for BLTs. I have some leftover soup I made a couple of days ago that we can have with it.
I get a pan out and get the bacon going. Before I know it, there’s a knock at the door. I automatically grumble on my way there, but I don’t know why. I like Dusty. I enjoy spending time with him. Why is it that my default emotion is always surliness? I can’t imagine that’s pleasant to be around, and I’m sure Talia would have something to say about it if I told her.
Dusty gives me a big smile when I open the door. His jacket and beanie have flecks of snow on them. He steps inside and shakes it off.
“Make a mess, why don’t you?” I complain, though I don’t really mean it.
“Good to see you too, Rhett.” Dusty takes off his snow gear, hanging up his jacket and leaving his boots by the door. “Smells good in here.”
“Shit. I hope I’m not burning it.” I hurry into the kitchen. The bacon is crispier than I like, so I get rid of those pieces and put a couple others in. “It’s better if it’s softer,” I tell him.
“You don’t have to waste that. I’m good with crunchy.”
I shake my head. I’d feel weird serving him that. “If you don’t like it better crunchy, I’d rather just make more.”
I feel his gaze on me but don’t make eye contact. “That sounds good to me.”
I breathe out a sign of relief.
“How you been?” Dusty leans against the counter, his sandy hair flat from the beanie he’d been wearing.
“You just saw me at the birthday party. It’s not as if it’s been weeks.”
“That mean I can’t ask you how you’re doing now?” He cocks a brow.
I shrug. “I’m fine.” I keep an eye on the bacon so I can flip it at the perfect time.
“Meadow’s party was nice. It was good to see you there.”
“Are we going to stand here small-talking?”
“Is there something else we’re supposed to do?” he asks, and again, I guess he’s right.
“I don’t know, Dust. How’s Morgan?”
He grins. “He’s doing well. You should come hang out at Gracie’s one night. It’s doing real well. He’s loving it. I’ve been heading over in the evenings after work. Cass, Archer, and East came the other day too.”
“Tripp was there?” The question comes out without forethought, and I wish I could suck it back in. Why does it matter if Tripp was there?
“Yeah, he was. You two becoming friends?”
“Did he say that?” I flip the bacon. It’s perfect. That’s much easier to focus on than what Dusty is talking about.
“Not in those exact words, but I assumed since you’re asking about him and you were at Meadow’s party. Plus, Cass got you to skate. It’s basically a miracle. You had fun.”
“Ha-ha,” I find myself saying rather than getting annoyed. I grab the small pot of soup from the fridge, the tomatoes and lettuce. Once the soup is warming up, I wash the tomatoes. “I wouldn’t really call us friends. Meadow invited me, and…” Say it. Spit it out. Don’t act like this is a big deal. It shouldn’t be. “I’m going to start working with him part-time. Just for something to do.”
“Working with him doing what?”
“At his job. What else?” His words grate, though I can’t blame him. It’s not as if I’ve ever told him I’m interested in building.
“Oh. I didn’t know you’re familiar with carpentry. Is that what you’re always doing in the shop?”