Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“You deserve more,” I corrected. That was what all my frustration boiled down to. Harrison was fussy and a bit uptight, but he was also a good guy who loved his mom and had a lot of life left in him. I didn’t like the idea of him withering away whatever time he had left, whether it was ten days or thirty years.
“Maybe I do.” Harrison surprised me with his quiet agreement.
And maybe that was why I’d invited him along. It wasn’t simply that I wanted Harrison in my bed. I wanted to see him live, wanted to see his face when we unleashed the ducklings, wanted to see who he could be if he dared to let himself hope for something beyond simply existing.
Chapter Twelve
Harrison
“Oh, my word.” I sounded dazed. All that was missing was me clasping a hand to my chest. My jaw already hung open and my glasses were askew. But the ducklings were free, splashing and flapping about in the boggy rice paddy. “They’re so happy.”
And so was I. Bright early summer sun, squishy soil under my borrowed boots, and a smiling farmer to share the moment with. Finn’s rice-farmer friend, a woman around my age with a long braid, had left us to go deal with an urgent transplanting issue, so it was just the two of us, watching and laughing at the ducks.
“I knew this would blow your mind.” Finn clasped my shoulder. “Be sure and get those pics for your mom.”
“I’m trying.” I aimed my camera phone, but his warm grasp was more than a little distracting.
“When we come back in the fall, they’ll all be grown.” Finn sounded almost wistful, a parent watching his babies go off to kindergarten. “The difference will be amazing.”
“I’m sure.” Inviting myself along for the return trip would be rude and a little presumptuous. We’d both made it clear that we didn’t want anything serious. Planning ahead for autumn would definitely fall under the serious category. So instead, I kept my voice light. “This is totally worth enduring these boots.”
“I wasn’t kidding about the mud. When we come to fetch them home, I wear hip waders, and even then, I’m always a mess at the end of the day.”
“Wouldn’t mind seeing you all muddy,” I mused, still not inserting myself into the ducks’ homecoming, but loving the mental image of Finn and all those muscles, sweaty and dusty and needing a shower…
“Yeah? You have a dirty streak I should be aware of, Harry?”
“Maybe you’ll have to find out.” I gave him a pointed look. He wasn’t the only one who could flirt and tease, even if I was a little rusty.
“Oh, I intend to.” Finn’s return glance was hot enough to make sweat break out on the back of my neck. “Before dinner if you keep looking at me like that.”
“I’m good with that.” Matching him heat for heat, I let my gaze roam over the way he filled out his faded jeans and loose plaid shirt over a T-shirt exhorting people to eat local. “We can have dessert first.”
“You rebel. Look at you living dangerously.” Finn laughed as he turned away from the ducks.
“I’m trying.” I followed him back to the truck.
I hadn’t forgotten our earlier conversation. I wanted to start being spontaneous about sex, yes, but also in other parts of my life too. Be more like Finn, less doom and gloom. But I knew it would be hard to dine on optimism after so many years of resigned dread.
“I know.” The gravity in his voice said he understood the battle I was facing. “Ready to go?”
“Sure. Bring on…dessert.” I spun around to get one more happy-ducks picture. “Goodbye, ducks. Have a great summer.”
“It’s possible you’re even cuter than the ducklings.” Finn shook his head. “I’m betting I’m not getting you to try my duck Pad Thai recipe anytime soon.”
I made a horrified noise. “No! Honestly, I’m not sure how you handle getting so attached to the animals and then having to sell or eat them.”
“That’s just it.” Finn started the truck and slowly headed back toward the rice farm’s main drive. “They’re not pets. I don’t romanticize what they are. They’re bred for a purpose, and the way I see it, it’s my responsibility to give them the best life I can, to respect their place in the food chain, to educate others on what ethical meat production looks like. I do the best I can, same as all the farmers before me, and then at the end of the day, I make my peace with it.”
“Wow.” I whistled low. “That’s…”
“Too much?” Finn gave a hearty wave as we passed his farmer friend talking to a group of her workers.
“No. It’s beautiful.” My throat was strangely tight. “That’s what I was going to say. Your community is lucky to have you. The animals are lucky too.”