Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Ted, I’ll be honest. I want an explanation,” Logan announces as Bennett fights a wiggling Autumn. “About why you hit me—”
“And why, oh why you have so much interest in Beatrice Bishop in the first place,” Bennett cuts him off. “Tell me right now. Are you sleeping with my sister? Because trust me, I wasn’t exactly believing the whole ‘Breezy’s helping out on your farm’ bulls—crud. And now that I see the way you’re looking at her, I’m starting to think she was spending more time in your bed than your god—gosh-darn farm.”
“What?” Logan snaps. “You thinking Farmer Ted is plowing Breezy’s field?”
Bennett rolls his eyes, but I don’t shy away from the answer. The truth is that, yes, Breezy and I have been sleeping together. But we’re not teenagers, and her brothers have absolutely no reason for some self-righteous psychobabble about her virtue. I mean, from what Breezy’s told me, for most of her life, it’s been she who’s taken care of their asses. Not the other way around.
“Yes.” It’s a simple word, but the tone is emblazoned by a chest full of air. “Not that it’s any fuuu—mbling business of yours.”
“Holy hel—lo.” Bennett’s jaw drops.
“Hello! Hello!” Autumn chimes in, waving her little toddler hand in the air. “Hello, baby!”
If I weren’t being currently stared down by the bull that is Bennett Bishop, I would probably acknowledge how cute it is and say hello back to her.
“Are you fu—dging kidding me?” Bennett questions through a tight jaw. “Breezy fell for your happy, yapping shi—crap and your sheepy fingers?”
“Bahh, bahhh!” Autumn shouts proudly. “Sheep go bahhh!”
And I have to admit, it makes me smile. She’s a sweet kid with a happy disposition and demanding energy. She marches boldly through life, and Norah and Bennett do a great job of enjoying every moment of chasing her, but regardless of how sweet her pigtails are or how big her smile is, Bennett and Norah have still been left with a hell of an empty bucket that will never fill. There’s a void when you lose a kid that can’t be—
“Well.” Bennett grabs my attention, having set Autumn down near her swing set that’s safely away from the burn pit and moved closer to me. He’s maintaining a soft posture—for the sake of his marriage and his behavior in front of his toddler, no doubt—but from what I can tell, he’s been waiting on an answer from me for a while as my mind wandered. “What are your intentions?”
I blink. “My intentions?”
“Yeah, ass—butthole. With my sister. What are your intentions? Do you intend to date her? Marry her?”
A jolt of panic shoots straight through me. My stomach knots. My fingers tingle. Not because I don’t know how I feel about Breezy—but because I do.
And that’s the damn problem.
I know what happens when you let someone in too far. I know what happens when your entire world becomes them and what it costs you when you believe they’ll always be there.
I told myself Breezy was a distraction. Temporary. Casual. But somewhere between the lines of her laugh and her smile and the way she makes fucking everything better, that lie’s gotten harder to hold on to. More like, impossible to hold on to.
“Jeez, Ted. Are you having a stroke or something?” Logan sneers. “Why won’t you answer my brother’s question?”
“I…” My throat feels tight. “I don’t have intentions.” I clear it, forcing calm into my tone. “I care about her, and she cares about me, and beyond that, I’d say it’s our own, very adult, consenting, private business, wouldn’t you?”
“No,” Bennett says with an edgy shake of his head. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
I shrug. “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree, then.”
Bennett postures more aggressively now, and I brace myself to earn my own bag of peas.
“Bahh, bahh, bahh!” Autumn exclaims from her perch on the slide of her swing set.
I look up to find my flock making a beeline for all of us and promptly remember the whole reason I ended up at Bennett’s in the first place. Crosby, the bastard, is the ringleader heading the charge of fluffy terrorists toward us, and I guess I should be thankful that they managed to stay in the vicinity of the farm while I’ve been wrapped up over here for what feels like hours now.
All at once, my sheep choose Logan as their victim, surrounding him and circling him like gentle vultures.
Bennett and I back up, him scooping Autumn up and out of the way as she continues to make sheep noises, and Logan folds his arms up and to his chest as they get tighter and tighter around him.
“Yo, guys, you wanna do something about these sheep?”
“Not really,” I say, and Bennett actually laughs.
“What are they doing, Ted? Why are they circling me?”