Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
"I’ve got a note book,” she says distractedly as she taps away. “This is all research for my thesis. I need to understand the socioeconomic factors that drive people to choose isolation over community integration."
Socioeconomic factors. Community integration. Christ.
"And what do you expect?"
"I..." She looks up, confused by the question. "I expect to gather enough data to write a thesis that meets academic standards for publication."
"Wrong." I pull into the two-track road that leads to my basecamp cabin, the truck bouncing over ruts that would bottom out her little Honda. "You're expecting to hide behind those notes and turn this into homework."
Her jaw lifts in that stubborn way I'm already getting used to. "That's my job. That’s why I’m here."
"No, little girl. Your job for the next three days is to do exactly what Daddy tells you. Nothing else matters."
I’ve only started using that word since she’s been around, but the way her breath catches tells me it hits exactly right.
"I can do both," she says, but her voice is shaky now.
"We'll see."
She twists those cute lips together, putting her phone down. “Okay then, tell me why you want to live up here like you do. Is this how you grew up?”
I keep my eyes ahead, continuing the circles on her skin, feeling her pulse kick up.
“Didn’t grow up up here so to speak. My grandfather settled here, buying up half the mountain by the time he was forty. Never went to school. Couldn’t read or write but he was smarter than any man I’ve ever met. Took care of my grandmother, was a good dad to my mom. A hero to me.”
“Wow. He sounds like a book that should be written.”
I nod. “Probably. My mom always told me I took after him. When she married my father, he moved her into town, he thought the mountain was for hillbillies.”
“Where is he now? And your mom?”
I still for a second, easing the truck around a tree half blocking the road. “Mom’s been gone about five years. Dad…I don’t know. Don’t care. Me and my brothers ran him off. Life was better without him. He hit my mom. That was the end of that.”
Marley is quiet for a minute and I look over to see her staring out the window, her lips pulled tight.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I love my life. I love this mountain. It’s exactly where I belong.” She gives me a nod but something is off. “What’s wrong baby?”
She squints, here eyes almost closed before she opens them and blurts out, “My parents wouldn’t like you.”
I snort on a deep laugh. “I’m not here to worry about your parents little girl. I’m here for you.”
I turn the truck down the last short stretch of road, Marley holding on to the door as the truck lurches side to side on the wash outs.
“You’re okay.” I brush my knuckles down her cheek, then park the truck on the patch of flat dirt that is as close to a parking spot as it gets up here.
I get out, walk around and open her door, putting my arms up for her.
She offers this little smile as she half tosses herself forward, a excited squeal rising to the trees as I catch her mid-jump, spinning her around then setting her on the ground.
I unload the truck, putting the lighter pack on her shoulders. She looks out of place but relaxed as I point up the trail.
“Our hotel for tonight.” My cabin sits in a clearing I carved out myself—one room, wood stove, no electricity, no bullshit. Built with my own hands on land that belongs to me.
“This is where you live?" she asks.
"This is where we're staying tonight. Sort of base camp. Not my home. Tomorrow we head deeper into the mountains."
"Deeper?" Her voice cracks slightly. "This isn't deep enough?"
I look at her, letting a slow smile spread across my face. "Oh, little girl. You have no idea how deep I can go."
The way her pupils dilate tells me she catches my meaning loud and clear.
She hurries to catch up, nearly tripping over a tree root. "Wait... We’re not going to be sleeping without central heating though, right? It's October in Michigan."
"Which is why you'll be sleeping in my bag. With me."
That stops her cold. "With you?"
"Body heat's the most efficient way to stay warm. Basic survival 101." I guide her to the front door, dropping down some of the supplies before turning and bracing my hands on the two wooden pillars that hold up the little overhang where she’s standing.
"But..." She's doing that overthinking thing again. "The lines between are really blurry. I am completely out of my element with this. I am not sure we are making wise choices. Like, with what happened back in the shop--"
She tugs her lips side to side and even with her fussing, her nipples are distracting as fuck pushing out on the khaki button up shirt she’s wearing.