Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Lies. All lies.” Will looks askance at Maren.
I giggle, folding my paper bags. “It’s fine. It sounds like I’d better not get attached to any of you, since you’re leaving me in a few months.”
Will and Maren share somber expressions.
“I said something wrong.” My gaze ping-pongs between them.
They continue to inspect each other for a few more seconds. Then Maren musters a sad smile. “We might as well give you full disclosure.” She swallows hard.
Will starts to stroll past her but stops and kisses the crown of her head before finding his spot on the sofa.
The temperature of the room drops ten degrees in five seconds.
Maren pulls in a shaky breath. “We have a room available for you because my brother, Brandon, died last summer. A firefighter—a hotshot.”
“I’m sorry.” I squeeze her hand, hoping my presence won’t be a reminder that he’s no longer here, the way that box in the shed is a reminder that my mom is gone.
She nods, blinking back the tears. “Thank you. It took me a while to feel okay about sleeping in his room. But it’s oddly comforting now. And go ahead and get attached to us.” Her sadness turns into something resembling hope. “Isn’t that the point of life?”
“Except Fitz. Don’t waste your time on him,” Will adds.
Maren smirks and releases my hand to blot the corners of her eyes. “Definitely don’t waste your time on Fitz. It’s not that he’s a pariah, but he’s not far off.”
“Poor Fitz.” I snicker, retrieving the bag of trail mix from my cabinet. “Maren, what do you do when it’s not fire season?”
She fiddles with the edges of my grocery bags. “I—”
“She transports Professor Gray Balls to his conferences.” Will cackles.
“William, should I be concerned that you seem to know his balls are gray?” Maren asks.
Will ignores her.
With an exaggerated eye roll, Maren returns her attention to me. “Ted is my dad’s best friend and a professor of environmental physics. He travels all over the world to conferences. He’s brilliant. Sought after. And . . .” Her nose wrinkles.
“Old?” I question before filling a glass with water from the filtered jug in the fridge.
“Eighty-two,” Maren confesses.
“Maren’s waiting for him to die,” Will says. “Fitz and I firmly believe he’s leaving her all his assets when he dies.”
“Why is that?” I take a sip of cold water.
Maren slides the folded bags under the sink next to the garbage. “Ted never married. No kids. No family other than a sister in Portugal who’s not doing well. And he’s not leaving his money to me.”
“Maren, you massage his anal glands.” Will tosses the game remote aside and grabs a handful of popcorn from the stainless steel bowl on the tree-trunk coffee table.
“Stop.” She snorts. “You’re such a dumbass, Will. It was his dog. And it was only once.”
I bite back my smile when she looks at me. “I’m, uh . . .” I jab my thumb over my shoulder toward the back door. “I’m going to go call my friend before it gets any later.” My jaw stretches in a long yawn. “She’s on eastern time, and so is my body. Are you showering? I need to wash off the day’s drive before I pass out.”
“Nope. It’s all yours.”
“Maren never showers.” Will’s relentless.
She flips him the bird without taking her eyes off me. “I don’t wash my hair more than twice a week, hence the shower cap, William.”
This is more than I ever expected. I have a great place to stay and three new friends. Well, two new friends and Calvin Fitzgerald.
Back in my shed, I FaceTime Melissa.
She answers right away, wrapped in a fuzzy pink robe, hair piled in a bun on top of her head, and face covered in a gray clay mask. “Tell me it was a huge mistake, and you’re coming home immediately.”
An irresistible smile creeps along my face while I retrieve sweatpants from my dresser drawer for after my shower. There won’t be any scurrying off to my bedroom in nothing but a towel. “Don’t be mad, but I think I love it here.”
“What? No! You just got there. What can you possibly love already?”
“The snow. The mountains. My room. It’s a shed—a she shed. But look!” I turn my phone in a slow circle.
“That’s super cute.”
“It is.” I plop onto the bed. “The downside is I must trek through the yard and snow to use the bathroom.”
“That seems like an important piece of information to withhold when advertising a room for rent.” Melissa wrinkles her nose, causing the face mask to crack.
“Agreed. But I think I’m going to love my private space. And I have the nicest roommates.”
She clears her throat, giving me the stink eye.
“I’d like to retract that last statement.”
“You’d better.”
I blow her a kiss. “You know I love you the most.”