Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“I hate both of you,” I announced, standing up. “And I’m going to the store, where at least the power tools don’t try to make something out of nothing.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Maya said cheerfully. “I’m sure the screwdrivers and drills could—”
“Stop now, I beg of you!” I cried, stopping her from making whatever raunchy insinuation she was going for. “You’re my baby sister, for crying out loud. Jesus.”
I grabbed my jacket, pointedly ignoring them both. “I have actual work to do. A business to run. Bills to pay. A Christmas photo shoot for the McClures and their dogs tonight. You know, real-life stuff that doesn’t involve shipping or viral videos or—”
Pretty boys.
My phone buzzed. Again.
Adrian
Hey. So Marco had to cancel. Any chance you’re free to…?
“Don’t even think about it,” I muttered to my phone before sending him a single-word response. No.
“Was that Adrian?” Maya asked, her tone far too innocent. “Because I heard there was a, um, thing scheduled at the firehouse, so—”
“No.” I pointed at her. “Absolutely not. Rule number three exists for a reason.”
“Yeah, because you’re scared,” she shot back. “Scared of actually letting someone see past your grumpy shell. Scared of admitting that maybe, just maybe, the universe is trying to tell you something.”
“The universe isn’t trying to tell me anything,” I argued. “Just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we somehow belong together, Maya. Don’t be that guy. Girl. Whatever.”
Her smile dropped, and she glared at me. “Unfair hit below the belt.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled while Alex, thankfully, stayed quiet. “Sorry. You’re right. Sorry.”
Maya reached out and touched my arm. “I just think it’s time for you to live a little, Maddie. Stop taking everything so seriously. Go on a date. Let yourself have a little fun.”
“It’s not fun, it’s a job,” I reminded her, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was tired. Tired from working, tired from trying so hard to keep all the balls in the air. Tired of being the grumpy one.
Tired of being alone.
I remembered the way Adrian’s fingers had felt brushing my nose, how his laugh had sounded when it was genuine, how his eyes had sparkled when challenging my opinions on lavender hot chocolate.
My phone buzzed again.
Adrian
You can’t deny the on-screen chemistry was great. C’mon. It’ll be quick. In and out. You said the tree farm opens at 10, we can be done by 11:30. Professional. Painless.
“Fuck,” I muttered, letting my head thunk against the doorframe.
Because he wasn’t wrong. The chemistry had been great. The footage was compelling. And something about trading barbs with Adrian Hayes had made me feel more alive than I’d felt in years.
Which was exactly why it was dangerous.
“I’m going to the store,” I announced. “To do actual work. You two can keep scrolling social media all you want.”
As I descended the stairs, I heard Maya call after me, “Don’t forget to dress cute for your second date!”
I slammed the gallery door harder than necessary, the bell jingling in protest. The crisp winter air hit my face, helping clear my head as I trudged toward the hardware store. I needed to focus on real problems—like the stack of still-unpaid invoices in my desk drawer, or the leak in the stockroom roof, or the fact that our heating bill had nearly doubled this month.
Not Adrian Hayes and his perfect face and his surprisingly genuine laugh and—
“Maddox! Just the man I was hoping to see!”
I suppressed a groan as Evelyn Hoffman emerged from the drugstore, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. The woman had been trying to set me up for fifteen years. The fact that she now had social media ammunition was clearly too exciting for her to contain.
“Hi, Mrs. Hoffman. Kind of in a hurry—”
“Oh, I just wanted to say how lovely that video was! Such chemistry with that handsome fellow. You know, my nephew’s coming to visit next week, but perhaps I should cancel since you and Adrian seem so—”
“We don’t seem anything,” I cut her off, probably more sharply than the sweet woman deserved. “It’s a business arrangement. That’s all.” I didn’t remind her that she’d already forced poor Nelson and me into a date together, and it had been a complete disaster. In addition to being a “menswear specialist” at a department store—his words, not mine—he was also a lighting designer for a theater over in Spokane and felt that my career and I would benefit tremendously from his lighting expertise.
I had not-so-politely disagreed.
“Sorry to run off,” I said, waving toward the hardware store as if gesturing to someone very important inside. “Have a great day, Mrs. Hoffman!”
As I entered the store, I breathed in the familiar scent of sawdust and metal. The morning light streamed through the front windows, catching the Christmas display Dad had meticulously arranged every year. Now, Maya did most of the decorating while I handled inventory and bills.