Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Mal snorted, but he twisted forward in his seat. “And where is there?”
I shook my head. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“Nope. I never give up on a challenge. You know me better than that.” He paused, and I thought what he’d said and how casually he’d said it hit both of us at the same time.
But the fact was, I did know him better than that, even though I’d known him for less than a week. Just like I knew he was freaking out. So I grabbed his hand and meshed our fingers together.
“I do,” I agreed. “But I’m still not telling you yet.”
The idea taking shape in my mind was so audacious and scary I couldn’t form the words for it yet. A week ago, I’d been sure New York held all the keys to my happiness. Now I knew it couldn’t possibly… if it didn’t have Mal. I felt like I’d been sleepwalking for years and I could finally see the world in vivid technicolor, alive with possibilities. Tonight would be my attempt to show Mal how things could be between us with no distractions or interruptions, and no need to sneak around.
With that in mind, I turned off the main road and onto a path that was more potholes than pavement.
“Okay, so that whole taking me into the woods to kill me thing… that was actually a hard limit,” Mal said.
I squeezed his hand lightly and rolled to a stop in front of a small cabin. “Killing wasn’t on my mind, but taking you into the woods was. I’m hoping you’ll be begging me for mercy before we’re done.”
Mal made a gagging noise. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus. That… was literally the cheesiest thing any man has ever said to me. Unless you’re plotting to kill me by lactose overdose, hot stuff, I don’t think I’ll be begging.” He unbuckled his belt and opened the door. “What the heck is this place? Should I be listening for banjos?”
“This is Dunn’s fishing cabin. Used to be my Great Uncle Waylon’s place, and Dunn was his godson, so he inherited it. You can’t see in the dark, but Bull Lake is out back and there’s a big dock.”
“Bull Lake,” he repeated, staring at the cabin with his hands on his hips. “Because what this town needed was more bovines.”
I came around the car to stand next to him. “Always.”
He gave me a side-eyed glance. “And does Dunn know you’re here?”
“Obviously.”
In fact, after catching us in the Iveys’ barn, Dunn had demanded the whole story, and I’d given it to him. It seemed I hadn’t given my brother enough credit when I’d first gotten back to town. He was still as sweet and goofy as ever, but there was a new maturity about him I hadn’t expected. More surprising than that, it turned out my brother was a sucker for romance, and he’d immediately pulled a key off his key ring and told me to make the most of my time with Mal.
He’d also given me a half-smile and said, “I miss you, Brooks. Don’t be a stranger,” which had made me feel pretty shitty for a minute. I’d convinced myself that going to New York was the only option, but what if there’d been another way all along?
“So… you actually planned this?” Mal said.
“Duh. Was that not clear? Ava was the one who gave me the idea. She told me this morning she was going to prove what a good friend she was, and she did.” I trailed a finger down his arm. “Even if fucking Diesel tried to mess it up.”
“Poor Diesel,” Mal said, grabbing my hand in both of his.
And you know what? Yeah. Poor Diesel was right. Because I was here right now, and he fucking wasn’t.
I led him up the single step to the porch, unlocked the door, and flipped on the light. The room was the same as ever—double bed in the center, kitchenette tucked in one corner, table by the door, half bath off the back—but someone had clearly been here today, because the quilt looked clean and fresh, unlit jar candles were set on the few flat surfaces, and there were heaps of flower petals dropped at irregular intervals between the door and the bed.
Holy shit. I was mortified.
“I’d been expecting early modern plaid and antlers,” Mal said wonderingly. “But it’s a love shack. Did you do this?”
I shook my head. But the way the flower petals looked like they’d been dumped by childish hands gave me suspicions. “Gracie, I think. And Payton. My sister and niece. They clearly went a little overboard.” Or a lot overboard.
“Wait, does she know about…”
“I guess?” I shrugged. “Maybe Dunn told her, or maybe we’re not as sneaky as we thought.”
Mal snorted. “True. Nobody’s seemed particularly surprised by anything this week.”