Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I remember.” Atlas chuckled fondly. Why, oh why, did every damn thing on the man, including his laugh, have to be so sexy?
“Oh, that’s right.” Gabe joined in Atlas’s laughter. “Didn’t my dad catch you and Marla Kleinsdorf in there senior year?”
“She needed help getting glitter out of her hair after her birthday party.” Atlas sounded more factual than bragging, but my back still tensed. Maybe his perpetual bachelor status wasn’t the sort of clue to his sexuality that I’d hoped for.
“Sure, buddy, sure. She still lives in the area, you know.” The way my luck was running, Gabe would have Atlas and Marla, who owned a flower shop, engaged before December. Pausing at the kitchen door, Gabe turned back to me as I attempted to scrub the worst of the sauce from the carpet. “And, Zeb, don’t try to salvage the table linens. Fresh set. Our guests have high expectations of a Seasons’ Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I’m aware.” My voice was crouton dry, not that either of them would notice.
“And for God’s sake, smile.” Gabe gave me the widest, fakest grin ever. “It’s the happiest time of year.”
Uh-huh. More like about to be the longest month of my life.
Two
ATLAS
I took my time in the shower in the corner of the employee changing room. It had been a while since I’d had unlimited hot water at my disposal. No one waiting for either the shower or my attention was a nice luxury to boot. Enjoying the relative privacy, I put an upbeat playlist on low on my phone while it charged. A power nap would probably serve me better, but without that on offer, some music might make me forget how long it had been since I’d seen a bed.
A cough sounded from behind me as I toweled off with the old but clean beach towel Gabe had found.
“Gabe?” I didn’t bother turning around or covering up. Fifteen years of navy locker rooms and tight quarters had taken what little modesty I had, and Gabe had seen it all on various camping trips when we were kids anyway.
“I…uh…” Definitely not Gabe. Way too uncertain. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I turned to find Zeb standing near the door, face as red as the cranberry sauce had been. He clutched a white dress shirt on a hanger to his chest like he was the naked one. “Gabe said he couldn’t find you a dress shirt wide…errr…big enough, but I found this in a different supply closet when I went to get one for myself.”
Zeb’s wide green eyes were riveted to my chest. Probably taking note of my tats.
“It’s supposed to be a phoenix.” I shut off my phone music to spare Zeb the musical taste one of my SEAL buddies had called “aggressively over-hyped club shit.” Luckily, I didn’t much worry about others’ opinions. Give me an upbeat tune and driving bass line any day.
“Pardon?” Zeb wrinkled his nose as he handed over the shirt.
“My tat.” I pointed at my left pec, where the flames and stylized feathers leaped toward my shoulder. “Thought you were trying to figure out my tattoos.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He nodded a little too enthusiastically. Surprisingly, he made no move to leave as I shrugged into my last clean T-shirt and then buttoned the borrowed shirt. I didn’t stress. Zeb would tell me his real purpose eventually. But I also wasn’t one to wait around, so I dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs.
“Gonna have to do laundry.” I bent over the nearby bench to pick up the black uniform pants Gabe had located for me. Zeb inhaled sharply, but when I turned to ask him what the deal was, his expression was blank and his gaze was on the row of ancient metal lockers behind me.
“Are you supposed to show me the ropes or something?” I didn’t mind his presence, but I wasn’t into guessing games. “It’s been a while, but I learned plenty from helping out when Gabe and I were in high school. Of course, you probably don’t remember me. You were little—”
“I remember you.” He quirked his lips. “And I was nineteen when Paige and Gabe finally got married. You came back for the wedding.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I vaguely recalled a short, skinny kid with big glasses dancing like he didn’t care who was watching. The sort of terrible-but-joyful movements that were hard not to appreciate. Present-day Zeb was still short, or at least shorter than me, but he’d bulked up, broader shoulders, trimmer waist. Hint of a belly, which was strangely endearing. No glasses, and he’d added a well-trimmed beard that matched his light auburn hair. “Thought you were younger at the wedding, but I guess I forgot. Makes sense because the wedding was after your parents passed.”
“The accident was why they got married.” Zeb’s tone was matter-of-fact, but the flash of pain in his eyes hit me low in the gut. The jack-knifed semi accident that had taken Zeb and Gabe’s parents had devastated this small community. I’d never admit it to either brother, but their parents’ absence had played a role in why I hadn’t visited more. I missed the pair who had seemed right-out-of-sitcom perfect—adoring each other and their boys as well. And I had no idea what to do with that emotion other than give it a wide berth. I carefully swallowed as Zeb continued, “Paige said life was too short to keep playing games with Gabe for years and years.”