Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“Not gonna get any flak from me there.” Rain glanced away toward the gate. “Your dad’s here! Can’t wait to hear what he thinks of Mom’s baking.”
“Warn him about any...special ingredients.” Garrick waved at his dad who strode over. Looking patriotic in his usual blue jeans and a red plaid shirt, he carried a small casserole dish with potholders.
“Brought some baked beans,” his dad said by way of greeting. “Left out the bacon I usually use.”
“The hardship.” Laughing, Garrick pointed to the food table. “Put it over there, then come and let me introduce you to Rain’s family.”
Rain’s mom shifted topics to the virtues of a low-sodium diet, much to the befuddlement of Garrick’s dad, but Rain’s dad got him talking about his horses and store. Lark shared information about a horse rescue operation closer to Portland, and the group settled into easy small talk before everyone helped themselves to heaping plates of food.
Eventually, it was time for cupcakes and presents. Shirley exclaimed over each gift, including Garrick’s lumpy pouch.
“The gift card is from Dad, too,” he added, trying to get attention off his knitting abilities. His dad’s eyebrows went up, but he didn’t say anything about Garrick’s new hobby.
“Now, don’t you go getting embarrassed,” Shirley admonished, holding the pouch up. “It’s a fine first effort, and we all have to start somewhere.”
“Honestly, I’m amazed Rain has stuck with the knitting as long as he has.” Rain’s mother’s tone was joking, but Rain stiffened next to Garrick nonetheless. His chair was close enough that Garrick could reach over and squeeze his arm. He had enough experience himself with familial teasing to be sympathetic toward his plight.
“And he’s actually good at it,” Lark joined in, leaning forward on the glider swing he was sharing with Harper. “Most hobbies only last days with him. Look at those socks, though. They’re actually wearable.”
“High praise.” Rain moved his hand like he was about to flip Lark off, then apparently thought the better of it, tucking it back by his side.
“Come on, dude. You know you never stick to anything.” Lark didn’t seem ready to drop the subject, typical older sibling, voice light but there was a bite there as well.
“I do too.” Mouth pursing, Rain gave his brother a hard stare.
“Rain’s done an amazing job sticking to his workout program all summer.” Even if he was loath to wade into a family squabble, Garrick felt honor bound to defend his person.
“Boys. And Rain, you know we love you.” Rain’s mother had a long-suffering tone as she played peacemaker. “It’s a compliment. You’re a good knitter. Now, if you could only apply that dedication to the rest of your life.”
“Maybe I already have.”
Even as Rain said the words, little doubts prickled up Garrick’s back. Rain was a lot of great things—loyal, affectionate, funny, hardworking—but his history with staying power wasn’t the best. He’d confessed to changing his major a number of times and even his interest in wildfire fighting felt as much like an occupational fling as a genuine calling. He’ll move on from you too. Most days Garrick could ignore that worry, live for the moment with Rain, but right then his gut churned. Damned reality again, forcing its way past his good mood.
“And maybe Mom will go to a cheese expo.” Skye laughed. This was clearly an old sibling argument, and even if there was some truth to it, Garrick frowned.
“Hey, at least you’ll be able to take the knitting with you when you bounce on to your next adventure.” Lark shrugged. And there it was, Garrick’s biggest fear—Rain wouldn’t stick around. Couldn’t. The siren call of something shiny would come his way. Garrick had known this ever since they first met, but lately things had become more complicated, his heart wanting things his brain knew damn well were impossible. He liked Rain. So damn much. But he couldn’t deny that all the like in the world wouldn’t be enough to hold Rain here.
“I’m so sorry that not all of us have had our future completely mapped out since we were ten.” Rain’s retort did nothing to relieve the tension in Garrick’s neck.
“At least I have a plan.” Lark looked like he wanted to say more, but his mother clapped her hands. She quickly thrust another gift at Shirley.
“Next present!”
The tiff died away, replaced by softer brotherly teasing about beanbag toss skills and gorging on the cupcakes. However, even hours later, Garrick still hadn’t forgotten. He and Rain had driven to a good vantage point for the town fireworks, not wanting to get caught up in the crowds at the fairgrounds but still wanting to see the show.
Sitting on the rear hatch, Rain rested his head on Garrick’s shoulder. The stereo was softly playing as the first of the fireworks exploded in the clear night sky, soft breeze tickling their skin. One of life’s truly perfect moments, and Garrick wrapped his arms around Rain, trying to memorize his beachy scent, the solid feel of his muscles, the softness of his hair. But through it all, he couldn’t shake the knowledge that someday soon Rain would move on, and it was going to hurt like hell when he did. Even knowing that, though, he still couldn’t let go, couldn’t do anything other than hold Rain close, hope memories like this were enough to soften the inevitable heartache.