Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Chip gives zero fucks and has no answers.
“She says she doesn’t want me to give up the peace I’ve found here. She knows I value my privacy and alone time.”
I open the last peanut as these two kernels will stretch his cheeks to capacity. “Except,” I drawl as I hand him a nut, “what does it say about me that those fucking trees are really bothering me right now, and I wish they were down so I could be closer to her?”
I give Chip the last morsel and he takes off, done with me and my musings.
What is Tillie doing now? I mean, I know she’s painting. Vaguely, I remember her pressing a kiss to my chest as she slipped out of my bed before the sun had fully risen, saying she was going to work. That was over two hours ago, and I haven’t heard a peep from her since.
My phone rings, and I pick it up from the flat armrest. It’s Callum Derringer.
I connect. “Hey, Callum… thanks for calling me back.”
“Anytime, Coen. What can I do for you?”
I push up out of the chair and pace my deck. “I want to come back. Is that feasible?”
The silence is so long, I think we might’ve been disconnected, but then Callum says, “Of course, we want you back. But not the way things were before.”
“I know. And it won’t be. I’ve…” I glance over at the trees, blocking me from Tillie. “I’ve worked things out.”
“Your suspension ended officially the second game of the first round of the playoffs, so you’re cleared from the league. While it’s my call and I absolutely want you on the ice, I want Brienne’s nod on this.”
My stomach pitches slightly, but I have faith in her. She’s done amazing work for the team since taking over. “Should I give her a call?”
“She’s actually out on a recruiting mission,” Callum says, and I can hear what I think is amusement in his voice.
Owners don’t recruit, but I have an idea of what she might be doing. “Drake McGinn?”
“The one and only,” Callum says. “Hope she’s successful.”
“I heard she pissed him off pretty good in the initial meeting.”
“Rumors,” he says with a chuckle. “But if there’s someone who can turn it around, it’s Brienne Norcross.”
I’m betting she’s got an amazing offer for him, but I also bet she’s not above groveling if needed. The woman will do whatever she can for her team.
“Well, I hope she gets him. He’d be an amazing addition.”
“That he would be,” Callum concurs. “Give me a few days to touch base with Brienne, but honestly, she’s going to want you back too. Training camp materials will go out via email in a few weeks.”
“Looking forward to it. And Callum?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for the hell I put you and the team through. I’ll apologize to Brienne when I see her.”
“Thanks for saying that. Apology accepted, and we all know you were going through shit.”
He has no clue the exact shit I was going through, but I’ve made peace with it.
We disconnect and once again, my eyes go to the trees. Fuck if I’m going to let Tillie sell her property. If I did that, I’d be killing her dreams.
But something more nags at me, some realization I feel like I should come to, but it’s elusive.
Not sure what it is, but I do know I have to do something to stop her plans from going any further.
Pivoting, I head into the house, through the kitchen, and straight to the garage where I search for what I need.
When I have my implements, I march back through the house and into the backyard. With purpose, I stride to the line of trees that separates our houses, and I set the chainsaw on the ground, tossing the gloves on top of it.
Then I pop the top off the can of bright blue spray paint I’d found on a shelf, and I mark the trees. There are far too many to complete with a single can of paint, but I mark the smaller ones that I know I can cut down myself. I walk straight through the copse, marking easy trees to my left and right until I reach the edge of Tillie’s yard.
Her house sits there, tidy and quiet looking. Her art studio window faces this way, and I wonder if she sees me. Assuming she’s still in there. From the angle, I can’t tell if her car is in the driveway.
After I paint the final tree, I trudge back through to my yard and toss the can on the ground. I pull on the gloves and grab the chainsaw.
I’ve used it around the property, cutting through vines and overgrown bushes. I used it once on a downed tree that was mostly rotten. I’ve never cut down a live tree before, but it can’t be that hard. I just have to stay out of the way when it falls, right?