Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“You know a lot for someone who didn’t go to college,” he said. I wondered how he knew that about me.
“I didn’t have much of a social life growing up, but I hated being at home, too. Honestly, I hated Durango full stop. But—and you’re not going to believe this—Durango’s library has a botanical garden.”
“Heaven for sweet little baby Truman,” Sam added, nudging his empty plate away and leaning back in his chair.
“Exactly. I spent as much time as possible there. I would check out books on every topic imaginable and read outside as long as the weather permitted. I planted thousands of imaginary gardens and grew metric tons of imaginary plants. The botanic society loved volunteers, so I worked with them as much as I could.”
“Ahh, so those weren’t wasted years. You were learning, practicing, and working in preparation for following your own path.”
I’d never looked at it that way, but he was right. Even if I hadn’t inherited this property, I most likely would have gotten a job at a nursery or garden center and saved up every penny until I could buy myself some land. It was nice to realize I might have been okay on my own without Aunt Berry’s generous gift.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling like something tight and creaky inside of me was finally able to loosen and relax. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“Are you doing well financially? Is the farm and shop income enough to make you comfortable and ease your worries?”
I was surprised by his question, not because it was a bit personal, but because of the way he’d asked. As if he wanted to make sure I wasn’t burdened.
I shrugged. “The online business is very lucrative. I love having the shop in town because I think I’d be quite isolated and lonely if I was on the farm by myself all the time, but it’s not nearly as successful financially.”
Sam shifted in his seat. “That makes sense. Overhead and whatnot.”
“Also, businesses in the town of Aster Valley have to pay a supplemental service fee to the sheriff’s department, and it seems like it keeps going up every time I turn around.”
I took another bite of chicken and rice and savored the flavor. I’d never had a man cook a nice meal for me like this. When Barney and I had shared a meal, it had either been at a restaurant or I’d cooked for him.
I looked up to see a storm in Sam’s eyes. “What do you mean a supplemental service fee?”
“It’s kind of a long story. The city of Aster Valley used to have a police department, but when the resort closed, there wasn’t enough money anymore to sustain it. They disbanded it and put the city under the Rockley County Sheriff’s Department instead. To make up for the extra work they were having to do, the businesses inside the city limits had to start contributing more to the department. At least, that’s what I was told. It happened while I was gone.”
“That’s ridiculous. Weren’t they now getting the taxes or funds that originally went to the Aster Valley Police Department?”
I stopped to think about it. “I guess so? I mean… that makes sense.”
Sam’s brows furrowed. “Truman, how do you pay this fee?”
“It’s actually organized so we contribute to their retirement fund. So I guess we’re not paying the department directly, we’re helping fund their pensions.”
His nostrils flared. “Truman, who do you make the payment to? How is the check made out?”
“I don’t remember exactly. It’s an acronym. It stands for the Rockley County Sheriff Pension Fund or something like that, I think.”
Sam opened his mouth to say something else but stopped himself. “Okay. Maybe I’ll ask the guys at the diner more about it since they were here when it first started.”
“Pim and Bill would know more than I do, for sure,” I said in agreement. “Do you want dessert?”
Suddenly, the subject of the sheriff’s fee was long gone, and Sam’s eyes were filled with decadent promise.
“I sure do,” he said in a rough voice before reaching for my hand. I glanced at my smaller hand in his larger one. He was incredibly gentle with me, so much so it made me want to thank him. Which was ridiculous. I knew enough to know I deserved for men to be gentle with me, but I also recognized it wasn’t always the case.
“Truman,” he said carefully. “I’d really like to kiss you again.”
I opened my mouth to enthusiastically agree, but he continued talking before I could.
“But I need you to know I’m not relationship material, and I’m only passing through town. I’ll be back on the road in a few days. And I think maybe you deserve more than that.”
I did deserve more than that. But I also deserved the right to have a one-night stand if that’s what I wanted.