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)
“Hang on, hang on.” Reg set his cup down and wrinkled his brow. “I know this isn’t about you and me, but I think I should clear the air and tell you that I just wasn’t ready to commit to a relationship or—”
“No, no, no. It’s not us. Yeah…I got hurt, and that sucked, but I’m more than fine. In fact, I’m glad we didn’t work out, ’cause I met someone who’s…”
“What?” he prodded.
“He’s pretty fucking special,” I croaked. “And I’m so nervous about getting this all wrong. Being a dad, being in a relationship. I’ve never done the first, and I’m terrible at the second. I had the worst role models—an absent father, a controlling mother, and I’m still working through the aftershocks of a monster concussion. Maybe my mom was right. Just because I haven’t had a seizure in over eight years doesn’t mean I’ll never have another one. Should I be doing any of this? I feel like I’m destined to fail right out of the gate, and I’m fucking paralyzed with fear.”
Reg’s lopsided smile was warm and indulgent. “Welcome to the club, Dex. No one knows what they’re doing.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I’m serious. We’re all winging it. There are more pitfalls and wrong turns ahead, but the good news is…you’re in it together—you and your kids…and your partner. You learn, you trust, and you have faith that you can build something better for the next generation. Man, I wake up scared every day. I want to protect my kids from the world…and maybe protect myself, but you gotta live, too. That’s what it’s all about, right?”
I nodded, pursing my lips in a valiant effort to keep my emotions in check. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“So to answer your question…yes, I think if you’ve got love and that extra secret sauce that makes a relationship work, you’re miles ahead of the crowd. Any kid would be lucky to grow up in your house. Your home. There’s a lot of love here. You can feel it. You just have to trust it.”
I grinned through a sheen of tears. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, get your ass to work so the damn town will quit worryin’ about you.”
“Yes, sir, Officer.” I saluted Reg, chuckling at his faux grumble.
I showered, shaved, dressed for work in my pink tee and jeans uniform, then checked in with Freya. All was well. The swelling had gone down, no headache, no pain in her belly, and Alice was there making her breakfast. I absently wondered if Alice and she were more than friends. I liked the idea.
My next stop was Dexter’s Donuts.
Janey gasped as I walked in the door and raced around the counter to fling herself at me. And punch my chest. “You asshole! Sorry, Mrs. Galbraith,” she mumbled to the older woman perusing the morning’s selections with her usual critical gaze.
“No need to apologize. We’ve been worried sick about you and the baby, Dexter,” Mrs. G admonished, peering over her glasses. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Freya is doing well and according to the doctor, the baby still has a couple of weeks in the oven,” I reported.
“Excellent. Now, I have questions about these lemon curd donuts.”
“I’ll be right with you, Mrs. G,” Janey said, turning to me and continuing, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I…” I gestured to the donut display. “I need to run an errand. I’m not sure how long I’ll be, but…wish me luck.”
Janey beamed. “You don’t need luck. Bring fritters, though…just in case.”
Ten minutes later, I was on the move again, carrying a pink box up Main Street toward the mill. I stopped twice to assure concerned citizens the baby was fine or to give today’s special. Honestly, I didn’t mind the distractions. It was better than worrying I’d get this wrong.
“Dexter! You sly devil you, charming us with treats! Thank you!” Layla exclaimed, jumping from her desk outside Cooper’s office.
I shook my head. “Actually, these aren’t for the mill. It’s a special delivery. I hate to bug you, but…where is he?”
Her eyes lit mischievously. “Big V? He’s in the lumber yard. Let me show you—”
“I’ll find him. Thanks.”
The only way to the lumber yard was through the mill. That meant weaving in between forklifts, heavy machinery, and groups of loggers in hard hats and full gear. My uniform, box of donuts, and the lack of a hard hat drew attention. Okay by me. For once, I didn’t mind if Wood Hollow put me on blast. In fact, I was sort of hoping they would.
I found Viggo standing akimbo in his ubiquitous plaid shirt in front of a tree trunk the size of a large boat. The bark had been stripped and though I knew nothing about logging, my best guess was that he was working out where to begin.
Same here.
I stepped outside, clearing my throat to get Viggo’s attention. But he seemed to sense my presence. He pulled his protective glasses off and set them on a piece of equipment.