Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“You’re gonna milk this too much,” Ben chuckled. “Meanwhile, I’m gonna go find someone who’s at least in his thirties.”
The fuck he would. He earned the next scowl, and there was no mocking about it.
He puckered his lips at me.
Jagoff.
“Dad, I’m only gonna have five more,” Alvin said. “Stop me if I try to take extra.”
In other therapy news, Rose was teaching Alvin to set boundaries for himself, and it was affecting his intake of pretzel sticks and Nutella.
“I’ll stop you,” I promised. “In fact, return the bag to the kitchen.”
He nodded and rose from the desk chair. “That’s clever.” He took the Nutella with him too.
I wiped some sweat off my forehead and then bent down to drag the roller through the paint. A beat later, Trace was back with our water.
“Why was Alvin muttering to himself that he should’ve said ten instead of five?”
I grinned and accepted the glass. “He limited his pretzel obsession.”
“Unwise. It never works.” He shook his head and picked up his own roller.
I watched for a few seconds, because Trace Kalecki doing handyman work was my new fantasy come true. He had some blue paint on his jaw, his hands might as well belong to a Smurf, but he got the job done without streaks on the walls. That was all that mattered.
I chugged my water as he bent over again to get more paint.
“Enjoy the view while it lasts, hon. I gotta get to work in half an hour,” he said.
“Oh, I’m enjoying it.”
I was gonna spend the rest of my life with that ass.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trace Kalecki
“That’s it for the bread!” I hollered.
“I’ll go see if we have something else.” Tonya hurried out of the Green, while Marisol and I poured extra soup into the cups.
Julie stood in the doorway, and we exchanged a look.
“About twenty more,” she said.
I nodded in confirmation. Twenty more heads wasn’t a huge miscalculation on our part. We’d find something.
It was dicey before payday. Twice a month, we had services where more visitors showed up at the soup kitchen because money just didn’t stretch the whole way till the next check arrived.
Julie went to give Tonya the estimate, and as she left, Ben entered. He’d just woken up by the looks of him.
I smiled politely at the guy I offered a cup to, then turned to Ben. “Mornin’, sunshine.”
He yawned and pressed a quick kiss to my temple. “Need a hand?”
“No, we’re almost done.”
He’d pitched in plenty this morning, after he’d gotten off his night shift. Tonight was his last shift for this round, meaning he was off tomorrow. When we were heading to the lake with Alvin, Elsie, and Angie.
Alvin wanted to take water samples and test the pH.
I was gonna buy the biggest slushie I could find on the way and then sit my fine ass down in the shade with Elsie.
We’d been threatened with summer heat all week.
It was good for Alvin, though. We were taking him out on more frequent day-trips, and he was slowly finding enjoyment in a bit more variety in his daily routine. As long as we could protect him from too much commotion, I thought it was going great. And Ben was overwhelmingly relieved, which also helped him get over Ziggy being gone.
That dog had his own Instagram account now, but even Ben had his limits.
“I’m not joining social media to see the same shaggy mug every day. I’ll see him when your folks come back for Thanksgiving.”
Tonya and Julie returned with a crate a couple minutes later, and it was filled with a mix of cheesy bread and hot dog buns.
“We checked with Petey first,” Tonya added.
“That’s great. Thank you.” I took a step back to have a swig of water.
I turned to my man and touched his scruffy cheek. “I think I should drive tomorrow. At least on the way up.”
After all, even though he’d be off tomorrow, he’d be on call all night.
Someone always called.
“We’ll see how it goes.” He yawned again and smiled sleepily. “It’s gonna be fun. Ma’s excited—she’s doin’ it up big with a picnic.”
“Score.” I loved her cooking.
It was good for her to get out more too.
“Angie better like me,” I said. “Shit’s going so well, it’d be my luck if she hated my guts.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You got nothing to worry about.”
I hoped not.
Friday morning, I was up at the crack of dawn, before Ben even came home from work.
They’d been on his ass all fucking night, so I was definitely driving.
I’d checked with my dad last week to make sure I could borrow his truck, so it was already parked outside.
I packed a bag for us. Towels, trunks—brand-new pair for Ben—a power bank, and a thermos filled with a fresh pot of coffee. Ben was gonna need it.
He walked through the door at a little past seven and couldn’t stop yawning.