Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
But there was a whisper deep inside him, one that played on repeat, the echo slightly louder each day, telling him he was a liar. That everything was about to change.
He thought about grabbing a beer but didn’t, instead drinking water, pacing his house, looking at the photos on the walls—stopping in front of the one with Nathan and Patricia. They were smiling like always—because it was a damn picture, so it wasn’t as if it could change—but somehow, it felt like the smiles were for him. “What am I doing, Patty?” fell quietly from his lips. No response came, because of course it wouldn’t. He was talking to a piece of paper in a frame.
He startled when there was a knock at the door, then chuckled at himself as he headed over, the hardwood floor chilly beneath his bare feet. He let Grady in, and Grady hurried past him, holding two bags, one with food and the other with clothes. Deacon had to bite back a chuckle, feeling silly all of a sudden, a bit like a kid having a sleepover.
Water dripped from Grady’s clothes, hood, and dark lashes. Wow, were they thick. He’d never noticed that before.
It must have been pouring out, a fact he’d missed if not for the sight of Grady. He closed and locked the door. “You look like a drowned rat. Gimme the food and go get changed.” When he took the bag, their fingers brushed, making heat shoot through his extremities.
“I feel like one.” Grady took his hood off and shook his head, splashing Deacon with water.
“Hey, fucker,” Deacon teased.
“That’s what you get for being mean to me. I brought you food, and you call me names. I see how you are.”
“Aw, but you’re a cute rat,” fell out of Deacon’s mouth like he wasn’t the one controlling it. The moment it computed, a jolt of panic shot through him, though he wasn’t sure why…because why did it matter if he’d said that? They were just teasing.
He studied Grady for a moment. The way his eyes were ringed brown and faded into green. The way his wet, dark hair clung to his head. Those damn thick lashes again, the right one with a raindrop hanging off, before it fell onto his face. The cut of his stubbled jaw, and his masculine nose, and…that was dumb, wasn’t it? Thinking of a nose that way? But it was straight, prominent but not too big, so that was the word that came to mind. And when Grady gave him a crooked grin, Deacon realized it was cute as hell. So he didn’t even make himself take it back.
“Are you trying to make your own pond on my floor?” he joked.
Grady’s smile grew. “Shit, sorry. I’ll get a towel and clean it up.”
They parted ways, Deacon going to the kitchen and taking the containers out of the bags. Grady had picked up barbecue, getting them both smoked brisket sandwiches and potato salad.
“Can I throw my clothes in the dryer?” he heard Grady call out from the laundry room, which was right by the hall bathroom.
“Yep, go for it.” He heard Grady doing his thing, and it made him smile for some reason—having him there, hearing someone else in the house, making themselves at home. “This smells good,” Deacon said when he heard Grady behind him. “It’s a newer restaurant, and I haven’t tried it yet.”
“I got a flyer about it. Hopefully I didn’t ruin our dinner.”
When he turned, Grady was drying the floor, and he was already in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, a tee, and a new pair of socks. It was hardly seven o’clock, yet it was dark, cold, and rainy, and they were in for the night.
“Should I put this in the washer?” Grady asked when he finished.
“Nah, I’ll throw it in the hamper until tomorrow.”
“I can do it.” Grady went back down the hallway and came back a moment later. “I’m starving. I thought about asking you if you could just bring my ice cream home and we could have that.”
“It was a hit,” Deacon told him.
They took their containers of food to the coffee table, and then Deacon went back for their drinks.
“Shit. It is good. I didn’t ruin dinner.” Grady was wiping his mouth on a napkin when Deacon set the waters down. “Jesus, taste this. You like brisket, right? I thought about getting chicken but decided to live on the wild side.”
Deacon let out a soft chuckle. “Living on the edge, huh?”
“You know it.”
A smoky flavor burst on Deacon’s tongue. “Damn, that is good.”
“You’re welcome.” Grady winked.
They ate and talked about their day and the unveiling of the new flavor, and Grady said, “Seriously, though, I appreciate your making me feel so involved that way. Even if you don’t keep my name on it, I’m honored. Not many people can say they have an ice cream flavor named after them.”