Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Jimenez let on that there’s a betting pool on rookie odds.”
Busted. He shrugged though, not going to let her bad mood ruffle him, not when the weather was so good and their turn to jump coming soon.
“Every year there’s something like that. But I know stubborn when I see it. You’ve got that on your side.”
He did know stubborn. And all day he’d been trying to outrun that late night story time with Shane, the rawness of his emotions by the time he’d finished. He hadn’t talked about Roger in years. Something about Shane, his solidness, his dogged determination, unearthed memories he’d buried a decade ago.
And Odell here, she pulled loose other Roger memories, like how he’d never once let fear win. Brandt had to admire the way she clenched her jaw and set her shoulders. “I’m not giving up.”
“That’s the attitude.” He could see the plane off in the distance. Wouldn’t be long now until they were in the air themselves. “Here’s our ride.”
They fetched their gear, got prepped for the tandem jump, and were in the air in short order. Odell was as nervous as predicted, but she settled in the presence of Hartman. Brandt tried to focus on the here and now, but he kept getting hit with memories of that jump with Shane. Funny how he’d had hundreds of jumps, maybe even up to four digits now, and that one moment stood out so vividly. He needed to stop obsessing over Shane and absolutely needed to stop doing risky things like tucking him in at night. A physical pull was one thing, but he couldn’t go getting attached. He knew better.
So he firmed his own spine, pushed Shane out of his head and tried to make the jump a success for Odell, enjoying her whoop of success as they landed.
Hours later, he was still buzzing from the jump, but also weirdly restless. Eager to get home in a way that wasn’t his normal. He might not be as hard-charging as some, but he was still dedicated to the job in a way that nothing else in his life came close to. He pulled long hours and he loved it, so this new side to himself, the part that was eager to see Shane and the baby, was more than a little disconcerting.
As he let himself back into the house, he caught a few chords of guitar music and followed the sound to the great room, where Shane sat on one of the dining chairs in front of the baby swing they’d bought Jewel. She was awake but calm, kicked back as the thing gently swayed. The dining table was covered with sheets of paper with blocky handwriting and a couple of notebooks.
“What’s this?” he asked, voice more unsure than he liked, mainly because he had no fucking clue how to greet Shane. Kissing him senseless wasn’t the answer, even if Brandt’s body wanted to argue otherwise.
“Live music for happy hour.” Shane strummed another few chords, smiling at the baby in a way that showed a glimpse of what he must be like on stage, looser than normal and infinitely appealing. “I think she likes it.”
“Cute.” And it was. So cute it made Brandt’s chest hurt with the sweetness of it all.
“Besides, I believe I promised you a song.” Shane’s lopsided grin truly was going to be the death of Brandt, taking that unexpected sweetness and amping it up, like flipping on stadium lights. And there Shane was, not only remembering their conversation from the night before but following through on it. Dependable as the sun. Fuck. Brandt was doomed.
Surrendering to his fate, he plopped down in one of the other chairs. “You’re really gonna write one?”
“That is what I do.” Shane raised an eyebrow, blue eyes gleaming in the early evening light. “I’m a songwriter. Tell me a good enough story and I’ll find the song.”
Their eyes met, and the memory of the night before danced between them. An acknowledgment maybe of the trust Brandt had shown, but also a confirmation that Roger mattered. Shane had heard, truly listened, and he’d understood on a level that not many could.
Brandt’s throat went tight. “Thanks. I...that means something. You trying.”
“Told you I would.” That solidness again. The sense that this was someone Brandt could count on, maybe even trust, when he didn’t count on anyone other than himself.
“Yeah.” Brandt’s voice came out far too husky, even as he tried to remind himself all the ways that he should not, could not rely on this man. “Gonna show me what you’ve got?”
“Not yet. It’s too new.” Shane quickly flipped over two of the sheets of paper, pink flush staining his neck and cheeks.
“I feel that.” And he did. Because this whole thing was new. Having a kid. Having someone around he could depend on. This attraction. And honestly the scariness of instant parenthood was nothing compared to whatever this thing with Shane was, but hell if he wasn’t going to stick around and try to earn that song.