Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Darius was in a few of the pictures too. Gray liked one in particular. He wore a smirk and had his arm thrown around the neck of a younger man, who was in the middle of laughing when the photo had been taken.
“Who’s the guy you’re clearly raising hell with up there?”
Darius adjusted in his seat and glanced up. “That would be Lias.” The youngest brother in the family. “I’m trying to get Elise to put up pictures above my bed too, but she’s a tough negotiator. She did this wall under the condition that I gotta have dinner with her, Ave, and the girls once a month.”
“Oh no, that sounds awful,” Gray deadpanned.
“They could come up here,” he argued. “I work at the restaurant six nights a week and have a shitload to do here to prepare for every season.” He nodded at Gray. “Don’t think I won’t use you to get us ready for spring. I have just enough space across the stream to support a single family with some basic crops.”
Gray pretended to be offended. “I knew it. You only want me here to grow potatoes for you.”
“That’s a solid excuse. I’ll run with that.” Darius nodded and sipped his coffee.
Gray cast a glance at his own mug on the table. Tin mug. Of course. He picked it up and lost the humor. “I owe you everything, Dare. I’m here for as long as you want.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Gray quirked a brow and took a careful sip. Shit, it was strong. But…fucking amazing. He swallowed and took another swig.
Darius smiled knowingly.
“Shut up,” Gray mumbled into the mug. “Is there anything you’re not great at?”
That earned him a snort. “Heaps.” He chewed on a mouthful of bread and gave Gray a pensive look. “You said you’re good at making pies. Can you make cinnamon rolls too? I got a hankering after Adeline mentioned they baked for the retirement community.”
Gray had only tried making cinnamon rolls once, and it’d been an utter disaster. “Sure,” he lied. Because if Darius wanted cinnamon rolls, Gray was gonna make them, so help him. He could call Mom and ask for a recipe. “I can make some tonight.”
“Fantastic. I’ll make us a stew for dinner.”
Oh boy. Gray was gonna get used to this way too fast. He could already feel an addiction creeping in. Because though he teased Darius about all the old-school stuff, there was a bizarre appeal to this lifestyle too. There was a sense of freedom in going back to basics, and Gray needed to feel useful. Up here, there would always be something to do, and the results were instant. Darius’s manual labor paid off every time he sat down for a meal, every time he went to bed in a warm house. Each day was an investment in his own future.
Gray was screwed.
At nine thirty, they left the cabin, and Gray was antsy. He wanted to get to Jayden.
Adeline had sent him a list of things Justin, the other boy, liked and disliked, and Gray read it on the way to the car. Standard boy stuff, the colors blue and green, he was curious about space and loved to build with LEGO.
“See the shrubs at the foot of the mountain?” Darius asked.
Gray shuddered at the harsh, snow-carrying winds and lifted his gaze from the phone. Said shrubs were almost buried under a blanket of snow and looked dead. “Yeah?” He peered up at the cliffside and determined it had to be at least twenty feet high. There was a ledge here and there with a patch of greenery or a misshapen tree trying to grow outside of the mountain’s shadow.
“That’s blueberry and blackberry,” Darius said. “There’s wild strawberry and rhubarb behind the cabin too.”
“It’s a miracle you’ve never had any bears here.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t know they’re in the area,” Darius replied. “I’m gonna put up a double-lined fence along my property line when the ground gets warmer.” He gestured out into the forest and made a half circle from one side of the mountain to the other. “It’s no guarantee, but at least it’ll keep smaller predators away for when I get chickens.” Because why wouldn’t he keep chickens in the middle of the forest as live bait? “I need a few cats and a dog or two as well.”
“And a big sign,” Gray said, drawing a rectangle in the air, “that says ‘Free Buffet for Bears.’”
Darius let out a laugh and crossed the little bridge over the stream. “If they get past the barbed wire atop a double fence, they’ve fuckin’ earned it.” He dug out his car keys. “When I bought the land and told Pop of my plans, he advised me to get ready for a whole new set of everyday struggles. He grew up on a farm and hated it. It was why he enlisted in the Army.” He paused. “This is how many farmers have lived in Washington since before we became a state. Alongside the wildlife. They take some, we get some back. All of us predators.” He smirked to himself. “I just happen to be a paranoid predator with experience in security and contacts who live and breathe surveillance.”