Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The Mustang drives up while we’re in the middle of this task, and even though I do a really good job of hiding my interest––I find a nail head in the post that needs to be pounded in a little deeper so it doesn’t injure any of the animals––I can’t stop staring.
Shane gets out of the driver’s side wearing a white linen shirt with a vest over it, dark jeans, and his usual aviator sunglasses, and grabs a couple of grocery bags out of the trunk. He looks like he stepped out of the pages of GQ. You know it’s time to seek help when the simple act of a man exiting a car kickstarts your sex drive.
From the attire, I figure he must’ve been meeting someone because he’s usually in a t-shirt and basketball shorts when he’s home working. This is how low I’ve sunk. I know what the man prefers in loungewear.
“You want some popcorn to go with that show you can’t stop watching?” I hear Aidan say, his voice edged in humor.
My head whips around, my skin the color of hot chili peppers. I’m ready to deny everything and anything at all costs. “Umm, what?”
“You’re going with denial?” His face is the very picture of mischief. “Bold move, Baldwin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He points to the screwdriver I’m holding. “That’s not a hammer.”
Shane spots us standing side by side along the fence, his gaze bouncing between me and Aidan. His expression is one that can only be described as coldly furious. What the heck is his problem?
It has not escaped me that Shane and Aidan have not been seen together since they both arrived. At least not since Aidan decided to use the water through as a personal bidet and his brother had to tuck him in.
Shane walks inside and I turn to his brother.
“What was that about?”
Aidan looks off into the distance. “We came into the world like brother and brother,” he recites with the gravitas it’s due. I’m almost tempted to take a picture of him. He can go from playful to thoughtful in a nanosecond. From clownish to noble in even less time. I’m getting whiplash being around him. “And now let’s go hand in hand, not one before another.” Then he gives me a blank stare which I rightfully return. “Shakespeare,” he adds.
“I know,” I reply in a casual tone and pick up a nail out of the box, placing the head between my lips.
It’s a lie. I am flat-out lying. I don’t know. But I’m not about to be patronized by a man who goes to a salon for highlights.
“No, you don’t.”
“Oh, shut up and hand me that hammer.”
He laughs and a smile sneaks onto my face. The look on Shane’s face has its hooks in me, though. “Hey, Aidan…”
“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the hammer while he hands me the end of the board to hold in place.
“Maybe you could, I dunno, help your brother out with his career? Have you considered that it’s hard for him because you’re so accomplished and successful and he’s still struggling?”
He’s about to start hammering the nail into the board but suddenly stops. He turns to me looking completely bewildered. “Struggling? What do you mean struggling?”
“Struggling as in the textbook definition: trying to make a living as a writer.”
Aidan laughs. “He sold fifty million copies of his series and he has a deal with HBO. If that’s struggling, I don’t want to see what success looks like. It might kill him.”
What? Why do I feel like the world’s been flipped upside down and I suddenly live in an alternate universe? “Fifty what?”
“His Last Patriot series sold fifty million––”
“I heard you the first time. I just…” I know those books. Military thrillers aren’t my thing. But everyone knows Shane’s books. “He’s E.S. Hughes?”
“Eamon Shane Hughes… You didn’t know?”
Humiliation threatens to swallow me whole. It makes me prickly. I think of all the stupid things I said to him that night. Boy, he must’ve had a good laugh at my expense. “How would I know that? Hughes is a common last name.”
“I dunno… Search Google like everyone else?” He starts hammering the nail in the board; hard, confident, precise strokes that indicate he’s done this before.
“I’m not like everyone else,” I mutter in my defense. I’m far more clueless than most.
“Yes, I’m starting to see that.”
Why is it that when one aspect of your life improves, some other part inevitably turns into a flaming turd?
Aidan’s finally doing his part, working hard to fulfill his community service hours. In turn with all the help I’m getting around the ranch, I actually finish days without being completely exhausted for a change. We’re even having some fun in the process.
Then Pepper gets sick.
“She hasn’t eaten in two days,” I tell Tom who’s looking at me with an overabundance of sympathy. He had to make a barn call today when Pepper again refused her morning grain and treats. This is very much unlike her and cause for concern.