Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Skye seemed so happy last night, telling me and West about her love of painting and landscape. The memory brings me a small smile.
Today is Saturday, and the yard is closed until Monday, but there is still a lot to do.
I want to know what happened between Jack and Skye last night because something sure as hell did. West told her to go to him, something I wasn't happy about. But he was probably right.
Today is going to be the day that I invite Skye to see the studio. It's a work in progress, and I need West and Jack to help with some of the remaining physical tasks. It could be a way to encourage collaboration between everyone.
I crane my neck as a flash of blue catches my attention; it's Skye scuttling around the side of the house. She’s wearing one of Jack's shirts and stooping against the rain. Moments later, she returns into view with some laundry, which she had hung out to dry, and she’s moving speedily. I recognize some of my shirts and pants as well as a few of her much smaller items. She catches me watching and raises her hand, dropping some of her load onto the increasingly wet ground. I don't rush out to help her but instead notice how the damp air has lifted the bounce of her hair, framing her pretty face and how beneath the huge shirt that is swamping, she’s wearing only a tank and her underwear.
The stirring in my boxers is immediate. Skye heads back into the cabin.
It's definitely time for a shower.
I don't close the window, leaving the crisp air to flood into the room to help clear the stuffiness that has built up overnight. And to let out my pent-up tension.
I’m not going to expect her to relieve me now.
Not when she's doing chores.
But later, it'll be my turn.
Dressed in loose pants and a fresh T-shirt, I stride into the hall and towards the kitchen. I don't need to tread carefully because Skye is already up. The men in this house can go fuck themselves.
She opens a cupboard as I approach and turns towards me, her nervous eyes roving first my face and then my body, taking me in.
I'm a big, powerful guy, and it feels good to have Skye's glances aimed in my direction. Even though it's a douche move, I tense my muscles in response and feel the tight fabric of my t-shirt stretch to accommodate the increased bulges of my biceps.
"Morning."
"Morning, Finn. I wanted to get the pancakes ready but had to get the clothes from the line! I'm really sorry!" Her eyes plead like she's worried I'm going to rage at her like Jack.
"Hey, relax! You don't need to explain yourself to me. I know you can't do two things at once, so no point trying!"
Her eyes are rimmed with red, and her cheeks are flushed pink, but her shoulders drop a little at my words. "Did you sleep well?"
I rub the back of my neck, still feeling the effects of yesterday's hard work. "Yeah. Okay. You?"
"I'm not used to the darkness and the silence. I think it's going to take some getting used to."
"If you ever need anything at night, just come find me."
She nods, and a smile flickers across her lips.
"Did things go okay with Jack last night?" The question is out of my mouth before I consider the repercussions. If she tells me no, what am I supposed to do about it? I'm allowing her to come between us by asking, doing exactly what Jack warned about. But I can't stand by if Jack's taking things too far. There have to be limits to what she can be expected to take.
"Yes. Fine." Her throat moves as she swallows what looks like a big ball of anxiety. She's keeping something to herself.
Is she used to brushing bad things away like nothing happened, pretending everything’s okay?
Seeing her distress crushed me last night.
Skye turns her back to me, mixing the ingredients to make the pancake batter.
Who would blame her for wanting to leave?
I need to make sure she wants to stay.
Today, I'll show her that we have more to offer her than our testosterone-fueled bodies, dusty cabin, and foul tempers.
"I'll get some blueberries to go with that. We should have a box out front. It gets delivered every Saturday from Rango's store in town. It'll have most of what we need for the week ahead. We can add the things you want to it next week if you like. Or West or I can take you into town this afternoon. Anyway, I'll go see if it has arrived." She nods at me, and I head out to fetch our delivery.
To my surprise, both Jack and West are hauling firewood from the log pile where the tarpaulin keeping it dry seems to have slipped, leaving it exposed to the rain, which is now lashing down in great streaks.