Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Reg sighed. “Got it.”
“Got what? Beer, I hope, but I’d take a shot of tequila instead,” Troy announced, holding a family-sized bag of chips.
“Me too,” Silas called as he and Cooper stepped onto the deck.
Silas grabbed a tennis ball and chucked it across the lawn for Tate before greeting us with fist bumps. He was six four with dark-blond hair, a chiseled jawline, and the godlike body one associated with professional athletes. He was also a nice guy whose participation in flag football had elevated the program across the Four Forest area.
Football fans traveled from far and wide for the season opening games and the championships. Everyone agreed his star power was good for the town, but we were all still surprised at the sheer number of folks who were willing to brave the winding roads for a glimpse of the football hero and the famous friends he’d recruited to join the summer league.
Cooper smiled in greeting and set a grocery bag on the picnic table. “We brought fresh corn from the farmer’s market in Elmwood. The kids insisted and of course, we bought too much, so…you’re welcome.”
Coop was closer to my height, but was thickly muscled like…well, like a lumberjack. He was Viggo’s boss at the mill. And he also happened to be Reg’s best friend since junior high. Hank, the guy who owned the mill, and his NHL superstar husband, Denny, were part of this crew, too. They led big lives, dealing with multimillion-dollar contracts and hobnobbing with celebrities and policy makers. Hell, Troy was impressive, too. A college star with famous friends in the league who’d kickstarted a dying forest town’s football pride and joy to life.
Later, as I nursed my third beer and soaked in the feel-good vibes that came with sharing life-altering joyful news, I realized how lucky I’d been to land in Wood Hollow.
These were good men, good people.
They knew about my mother’s big important job, my trust fund, and the uglier details of my health issues, and they didn’t hold those things against me. This was a safe place with found family, and I knew without a doubt they’d support me.
And my child, too.
CHAPTER 19
VIGGO
Dexter wandered into my workshop, a standalone unit I’d built adjacent to the garage. It was a twenty-by-twenty tricked-out space with a high ceiling, built-in cabinetry for tools, a large workbench, and excellent lighting. It was also well insulated, which was a bonus during the winter months.
He poked his nose into drawers and asked a million and one questions.
“Do you use a tool belt or an apron with a pouch? What about goggles? What’s this? It looks like a chisel? What do you need that for? Geez, I’ve never seen so many saws. Do you use them all? Is it safe to have so many?”
I pointed at the empty metal stool across from me. “Sit.”
Dexter scrubbed his hands together. “How can I help?”
I wanted to admonish him for the nonstop chatter, but this was just Dexter being excited, and it was oddly endearing that he couldn’t contain his joy. It always seemed to bubble out of him like an overloaded popcorn machine on a high setting. I warred with wanting to pick up every piece, answer every query, while hoping to calm his nerves.
I hooked my boot over the bottom rung of his stool, brushing our calves as I rolled the stool close. I grabbed his collar and sealed my mouth to his in a quick but demanding kiss.
“Relax.” I bit his jaw and pulled away. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Dexter replied in a breathy tone.
I caressed his cheek with the pad of my thumb and sat back. “Do you want a tour first? I can tell you all about tool belts, safety glasses, chisels, and saws, or…we can discuss the crib.”
“Uh…crib.” He touched his lips and huffed a laugh. “How do you do that?”
“What?”
Dexter shook his head, lowering his eyes bashfully. “Never mind. What’s the first step?”
“I need to know what you want it to look like. Do you have photos or an idea you can sketch? Also, what kind of wood? You have three choices—maple, oak, or cherry. They’re all very durable, very strong.”
“Um…okay.” He shifted on the stool and pulled his cell from his pocket. “I like this design.”
I nodded my approval. “I like that, too. Do you want the slats to be round or squared off?”
“Round. Can you make it so the crib adjusts according to the baby’s age?” Dexter pointed at his cell. “You can tell this crib is for an infant and this one—” He swiped to another photo. “—is for a toddler.”
“Yes. That’s easy. What about the headboard and footboard? I can make them larger or—”
“No, I think I like it even all the way around. And as far as which wood is best, you’re the expert. I just want a natural finish.”