Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Maybe you should have had a cup of coffee with her yesterday and waited for them to bake. Then you could be eating one right now.
Except going into her house had felt a step too far. He wasn’t even sure why he’d offered to clean her gutters. But the idea of her going back up that ladder when she was terrified of heights hadn’t sat well with him.
And when she’d hugged him after he’d lifted her down . . . well, he’d liked that a bit too much. He’d wanted to gather her trembling body against him. He’d wanted to tell her that she never had to climb another ladder in her life, because that was his job now.
His job was to protect her, take care of her, coddle her.
Atticus ran a hand over his face, feeling all of his forty-two years. When had he gotten so old? Lucie was way too young for him. Too innocent.
She was sweetness and sunshine.
Shaking his head at his foolishness, he headed out to his workshop. He’d put his attraction to his neighbor out of his mind and get some work done.
Atticus stood at his kitchen window the following day and stared out at Lucie’s house.
He hadn’t seen her leave the house all day yesterday. He’d checked constantly, but her truck was still in the same place.
It didn’t mean anything. She could be busy working. He realized he still had no clue what she did.
Maybe it was her day off and she’d spent the whole day on the couch vegging out. He knew people did that. Not him. He couldn’t stand doing nothing.
And he kind of thought that Lucie was the same.
She never brought him the muffins.
Because she’s flaky.
Except she wasn’t. Not really. When he’d been in town the other day, everyone he’d met had something nice to say about her. It seemed she spent most of her time helping people. But he’d rarely seen anyone over at her house. Why couldn’t she call on someone to clean her gutters for her?
It didn’t sit right with him that she helped everyone, but took nothing back for herself.
You don’t know her. You’ve lived next to her for less than two months.
But his gut was telling him that something was wrong.
Thunder sounded in the distance. The storm they’d been warning about all day was coming. He’d finish prepping for the storm, then he’d decide what the hell to do because he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to rest easy until he made certain that Lucie was all right.
It was the neighborly thing to do, right?
Sick. She was so sick.
Lucie hated being ill. Sure, most people didn’t like it. But Lucie was certain she hated it more than anyone else. She lay on the sofa, staring at the fire and knowing she needed to put another log on. But that meant going outside since she’d burned all the wood in the house.
“Come on, Luce,” she muttered to herself. “You can do it.”
Her eyeballs felt like they were two burning orbs. Her head was thumping. Her nose was all clogged up. And her throat burned.
Miserable. So miserable.
She managed to get herself to her feet. The room spun, and she held onto the arm of the couch until she was steady. Shuffling to the back door in her pajamas, she managed to get her feet into some rain boots and pulled on a jacket. A loud clap of thunder made her jump.
Stupid storm. Opening the back door, a blast of wind nearly knocked her over. But it felt kind of nice against her heated skin.
Shoot.
Come on, Lucie. You have this.
Holding on to the railing, she made her way carefully down the steps. A coughing fit made her pause at the bottom. She coughed so hard she nearly vomited. Then she groaned.
Life sucked.
Moving towards the woodshed, it wasn’t until she got there that she realized the wheelbarrow was by the house. Tears welled in her eyes. A sob broke free as she went back and grabbed the wheelbarrow, then headed towards the woodshed.
She managed to pile the wood up, and then she pushed it towards her cabin. Why did it feel so much heavier than normal? Her breath came in sharp gasps and she had to pause to cough. A groan of misery escaped her as she continued to push. Then the front wheel hit a rock, and it toppled over onto its side, spilling all of her precious cargo.
Under normal circumstances, this wasn’t something to be completely devastated about. But these weren’t normal circumstances.
Lucie dropped to her knees in defeat and cried. The skies decided that this was the perfect moment to open up and dump on her.
Soon she was soaked through, despite her rain jacket, which she hadn’t bothered to do up.
“Lucie? Lucie!”
The sound of her name being called in that demanding, bossy tone barely even penetrated her misery. She wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering.