Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“Do you really think he’s going to sell it off?”
“Magnus doesn’t make empty threats.”
“What about Soren and Logan?”
“What about them? You gonna marry them?”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He shrugged again. “If they want to keep the company, they need to find a wife.”
“You all act like I’m the only single woman in town.”
He finished with the shovels and turned to lean against the truck. “You’re not at all tempted? You’d be set for life.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t insult me. You know money doesn’t motivate me like it does others.”
“Money’s a necessary evil. It’s freedom.”
“Says the reclusive billionaire living off the land in the woods.”
He chuckled. Money didn’t motivate him either, but he did respect all that it could achieve. Speaking of which... “The studio looks good all finished.”
When she smiled, her entire face lit up. Wren didn’t cake on makeup like some women. He wasn’t even sure she wore any. She spent so much time outdoors, taking retreat guests on nature walks and doing weird hippie shit in the woods. She always had a sun-kissed glow and cinnamon sprinkle of freckles over her nose.
“I love it,” she admitted. “You did an incredible job on the beams.”
He’d spent a year harvesting the perfect lumber and shaping those beams exactly as Wren had described. “I’m glad you’re happy with it.”
An oversized flurry fluttered onto her lash, and she flicked it away. “I guess you want the guests to move their cars.”
“It would help.”
She sighed. “Make sure you keep track of your hours.”
“Don’t be dumb.”
“It’s not dumb. People pay good money for snow removal.”
“I don’t do it for the money.”
“Well, you’re still paying for gas and salt. Don’t be a stubborn jackass about it.”
He scoffed. “You’re the only person who gets away with talking to me like that.”
“You don’t scare me, Greyson Elowen Hawthorne.”
His mouth firmed into a flat line, and his eyes widened. “Keep it down.” Very few people knew his middle name.
She snickered. “You either let me pay you or I tell everyone that you were named after your mother’s mother.”
He leaned over her, purposely crowding her as he narrowed his eyes. “Try, and there will be consequences.”
She jutted out her chin. “No there won’t.”
She was right. He talked a big game, but he never followed through on his threats when it came to Wren. She was one of them, which was why she was everyone’s first thought when their father made that ridiculous proposal. She’d fit right in as a Hawthorne.
He recalled the guy she was talking to when he arrived. He didn’t look like her type. Or maybe he did. It was hard to tell, considering that Wren never really dated anyone. The guy had been holding a yoga mat. Greyson didn’t even know where they sold such things.
The wind picked up, and she drew the lapels of her sweater together. He frowned. “Don’t you own a coat?”
“I can’t find it.”
He rolled his eyes and went to the cab of his truck where he had an extra flannel jacket with a quilted lining. “How Darwinism hasn’t taken out your line is beyond me.” He draped the flannel over her shoulders, dwarfing her by its size, and she smiled.
“Thanks. And evolution can’t touch us. We were the gatherers and shamans.”
“You better not be eating those mushrooms in the woods again.”
“Lion’s mane is not poisonous.”
“Wren, stop eating shit from the dirt!”
“Everything comes from the dirt.”
He’d heard enough. “I’m sure you and that yogi will have tons of fun foraging from the trees and chanting in drum circles.”
“What yogi?”
“The guy from your class.”
“That’s the third time you’ve brought him up. Do you want me to get his number for you?”
“Very funny.”
“I don’t know if you’re his type. He asked me out.”
Greyson’s shoulders tensed, but he played off his concern. “You should go.”
All bravado left her face and her cocky expression fell. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?”
“Since when are you supportive of me having a love life?”
“I’ve never been unsupportive—“
She scoffed. “Bull. Shit. It’s your fault I’m single!”
He drew back. “You can’t pin that on me.”
“Oh, yes, I can. All my life, you’ve scared off anything with a penis that tried to get within two feet of me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Greyson, you know that’s one hundred percent true. Even today, when Noah tried to get by, you barely moved in an attempt to intimidate him.”
“Who’s Noah.”
“The guy from my class!”
“If he can’t figure his way out of a door, he’s probably bad at other things.”
“You know what? Forget it. You’re right. The only reason I’m single is completely my fault. You had nothing to do with it.”
“As if anyone could have that sort of control over you, Wren.”
She gaped at him. “You’re unbelievable.” Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling your brother.”
“For what?”
She waved her phone around, trying to find a signal. “Maybe I will take them up on their proposals.”