Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I was already planning to get something for us to eat. You want something in particular?” He pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the main road.
“Graham crackers and chocolate bars and marshmallows,” I told him. “Since you got me poisoned, you at least owe me some s’mores.”
He caressed my cheek and looked like he visibly relaxed.
“And worms,” I added with a big smile. “For more fishing.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve created a monster.”
“So…” I said after a moment of silence.
His jaw tightened. “Your father said a few things about his history with my father. And he’s got an ulterior motive giving me the information. I’ll give my PI the info.”
“And that information is…” I asked.
He shook his head. “No point bringing it up until I know if he’s bullshitting or not.”
He had a point. “Tommy, there’s something I didn’t tell you. You may know about this, but you may not.”
He pulled over to the soft shoulder with a squeal of the brakes, startling me.
“What?” he spat.
I grabbed my chest and I must’ve blanched because his hardened expression softened, marginally, and he motioned with his hands for me to speak.
“When I sorted through my things in your basement, I found a photograph of my mother with your father from when they were like teenagers in one of my albums. They looked like they might’ve been together.”
His expression was unreadable to me for a moment, then he said, “Anything else?”
I shook my head.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I didn’t know what the connection was, what the truth was, and I… didn’t trust you.”
“No more secrets,” he said and then he put the SUV into drive and merged back in with traffic.
“But you get to have secrets,” I mumbled.
He didn’t answer me. I didn’t push it. I didn’t feel strong enough to argue with him. He didn’t say anything until we stopped at a grocery store.
He grabbed a shopping cart. “Whatever you want for later and tomorrow morning before we head back,” he motioned to the empty cart and I nodded and he followed me up and down the aisles while I grabbed tea bags, instant coffee, sugar, milk, marshmallows, graham crackers, Hershey bars. Then I asked, “What’ll we do for dinner? Microwave food?” I made a face.
“I have a grill in the barn. I’ll bring it out,” he mumbled, clearly still in a foul mood.
“What’s with the farmhouse? Is there a usable kitchen?” I asked, thinking there may be appliances in it.
“Gutted,” he answered and picked up a bag of charcoal, putting it in the space under the basket of the shopping cart.
“Steak? Chicken?” I asked him when we got to the meat section.
He shrugged, “Whatever.”
I shook my head in frustration at these one-word answers I’d been getting, and tossed one of each in the cart and then stormed off to the vegetable section and left him behind.
When we got back to the Jeep and loaded the bags into the trunk I said, “Listen, you’re obviously not in the mood for this so if you’d rather just go back to the city, why don’t we just do that?”
He didn’t answer me. He got into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. I got into the passenger seat and folded my arms across my chest. He leaned over and blazed a dirty look at me and fastened my seatbelt for me.
I didn’t want to be pissy with her. I was so relieved she was okay after that allergic reaction, and I felt like garbage because I let that happen to her. I brought her up here for safety and this shit happens. I wanted to pamper her, spoil her, make love to her non-stop for the next twenty-four hours before we had to go back to real life.
Everything was just getting on top of me right now. Seeing the Crenshaws and getting attitude from them, seeing O’Connor, and then talking to him and listening to the shit that came out of his mouth just pissed me off. I was tired and stiff from a long night trying to sleep in a chair. I wanted her away from all of them, all to myself. So, why couldn’t I let everything go so I could just enjoy the next twenty-four hours with her?
When we got back to the farm, she put the groceries away, so I got some grass cut out back with the old manual push mower to make an area for the barbeque and campfire. I looked up at the second story doors and decided it might be a good idea to build a deck up there. Maybe we’d come back before summer was over and spend a few days so I could work on that. Because I’d started off at fourteen working for my father’s construction company, I could build just about anything.