Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Did it stop?”
“Word got round, some of that word got back around to her, it penetrated her Pretty Girl forcefield, that and the fact she could suddenly no longer snap her fingers and bring a man to heel. So yeah. It stopped. That was a couple of years ago, though, and small-town folks have long memories. I can’t know, but I don’t think she’s even had a date in all that time. I’m thinking that’s why she keeps her head low.”
“That would be why,” I muttered, upset for Hutch that he had to go through that.
And not insignificantly, maybe understanding why he was Mr. Grouch. Why he was a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am, get-your-orgasm-and-go kind of guy.
Maybe even why he extended his peace offering yesterday.
In the time in between, I’d proved I wasn’t a psycho.
This didn’t anger me.
It wasn’t only women who men tore through, making them cautious, distrustful, which in turn made any new folks, romantic or not, but especially romantic, have to stand the test of time and prove themselves.
Men experienced that too.
And it sounded like Hutch sustained a wallop of it.
I hated that, and the strength with which I hated it stunned even me.
But I did.
I wanted to find this Bree bitch and punch her in the throat.
I told myself this was because he won Emma her teddy bear and made Liam’s year by offering him a private tour of the sanctuary.
And I knew it was that.
I also knew it wasn’t only that.
“He’s into you,” Abigail said into my reverie.
My heart clenched. “I really don’t think he is.”
“Mabel, my guy is a husband. A dad. But he’s also a man. Emphasis on man. I have men friends. Brett knows what we have, who he is to me, and that I’m in it, at his side until we’re arthritic and drooling and drive our RV off a cliff to die side by side Thelma and Louise style.”
I started laughing.
She had amusement in her tone too as she carried on, “Brett doesn’t know that plan.”
“Spring it on him at the minute,” I suggested.
“I will,” she replied. “But back to what I was saying. I have men friends. A lot of them. And even if I might get caught up in a moment like the moment at the basketball net and gave a guy a hug, if he was my friend, he wouldn’t catch me and drag me up his body, or Brett would rip his head off. But he just wouldn’t do that because that’s not what guy friends do.”
My stomach whooshed, and I whispered, “There’s a lot more about me you need to know.”
“I guessed that,” she whispered back. “A guy?”
A guy.
And other stuff.
“A guy,” I said.
“Well, I’m a mom now, and with motherhood comes wisdom, says me. So listen to me when I say, just be in it. Don’t overthink it. Don’t draw a line in the sand you’ll regret you put there because you wished you’d crossed it. Don’t follow your head, or your heart. Follow your intuition. You’re a smart cookie, Mabel. If he’s moving you to the friend zone, then good. He seems like a super cool guy, and everyone needs friends. If it’s more, don’t close your mind to it. You with me?”
Boy, the wisdom that hit her at Liam’s conception was killer.
“I’m with you, Abigail.”
“And just have fun,” she went on. “I want to hear the story, but my guess is, it’s a doozy. So after we navigate the shit times, it’s all about the good times. Let yourself have some good times, Mabel.”
“I am. I will. And can I take this moment to reiterate how danged lucky I am you applied for that job?”
“I know. I rock nearly as much as Nickelback.”
Moxie shot me a glare at disturbing her when I burst out laughing.
“I think you rock more than Nickelback, babe,” I replied.
“Talk to Hutch. Let us know about this weekend. I hope he’s into it, because I think Brett thought he was the shit too.”
“I’ll talk to him and let you know.”
We gabbed for a while, then we let each other go.
Moxie’s purrs had stopped, which meant she was asleep, and this meant I couldn’t move.
I didn’t mind.
Tonks had curled in her dog bed, a soft rain had started to fall, life was good.
And I’d called Hutch “honey” yesterday, and he hadn’t said anything rude or done anything to reestablish boundaries.
Just be in it, Abigail had advised.
“Just be in it,” I whispered.
And on a rainy, chilly day on a mountain, with my babies hanging with me, I just laid there…
In it.
FIFTEEN
Skin in The Game
Hutch
Hutch spent his Sunday working his dogs, because the next week, he had the last of the owners coming into town to go through a week of training before the dogs went away.
He also spent it walking the entirety of his thirty acres to see if anyone had stolen any trees.