Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“Not sure yet,” I say vaguely, averting my eyes from Aubrey. The last thing I want her detecting is my present state of uncertainty about the outcome of the custody hearing. I’m mostly confident and determined, but I’m a bit out of my depths here, frankly; but, of course, I want Aubrey thinking I’ve got this situation completely under control.
Aubrey says, “I think you should figure out your intentions for the place before you do too much to it. Either way, I’d recommend replacing the rotting deck for safety reasons. Later, if you decide to keep the place, I’d also upgrade the kitchen and add a second bathroom.”
It’s the same list I came up with during our short tour, other than adding the second bathroom. I can’t argue with that additional idea, however, now that Aubrey’s raised it. If this place becomes a vacation home for my growing daughter and me, I’m sure Raine would appreciate her own bathroom, as she gets older, so she doesn’t have to share one with her old man.
“I think I’ll take on the deck by myself, while we’re staying here,” I say. “And figure out the rest after the custody hearing.”
“As long as you’re going to rebuild the deck, can I suggest a whole new design for it?”
I ask her what she’s got in mind, and Aubrey holds up a palm and uses her index finger to visually explain what she means. By the time she’s done walking me through it, I’m thoroughly impressed and sold on the idea. In fact, it feels like a no-brainer to follow Aubrey’s vision to a T.
“You’re good at this,” I say.
Aubrey blushes. “I worked every summer for my dad in high school. I guess I learned a thing or two.”
“Clearly.” I flash her a small smile, but she doesn’t return the gesture. Again. With a sigh, I add, “Okay, thanks. I’ll get the lumber tomorrow and get started.”
“I know my dad is presently out of commission, but I’m sure he could wrangle a small crew to help you finish the deck as quickly as possible.”
I shake my head. “Getting the project done quickly isn’t the goal. I like working with my hands and feeling pride in a job well done. I’ll take your dad’s supervision and advice, though.”
The slightest hint of a smile plays at Aubrey’s lips. “My father is the exact same way, and I learned it from him. We both take pride in a job well done, too.”
I try my damnedest not to smile at her again, since my prior attempts at warming things up between us haven’t been well received. But it’s hard not to smile with my eyes, at least. Aubrey’s so damned cute and sexy, all rolled into one. Also, so damned likeable, even though she obviously can’t stand me. “If I decide to go forward with the other projects you suggested,” I say, “I’ll hire your father to do them, whenever he’s feeling up to it.”
Aubrey’s cheeks visibly bloom. “Really? Thank you. I know my father would appreciate that. By the time he’s cleared to work, he’ll be in a pretty deep hole, financially. Don’t tell him I told you that. But it’s the truth, unfortunately.”
My stomach tightens at the worried look on her pretty face. I noticed Aubrey looking the same way earlier at dinner, when her mother said she’d turned down the festival committee’s offer to send financial assistance the Capshaws’ way.
Aubrey rubs a palm down her bare arm and clears her throat. “So, what’s your timing on going to bed? As your sobriety coach, I feel like I should know your schedule every day.”
“I’m pretty wiped. I was thinking I’d take a hot shower and get into bed pretty soon.”
“That works for me. I’m tired, too. Raine woke up with another nightmare last night, so I didn’t get a good night’s sleep again.”
My eyebrows cinch together. “Raine’s been having nightmares?”
“Every night since . . .” Aubrey doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t need to: her crestfallen expression and moist eyes have finished it for her.
I have no idea what to say in this moment. Whenever people have tried to say something comforting about my mother’s passing, their words have always fallen flat, like lead balloons, no matter how good the person’s intentions. So, in the end, I ignore the obvious emotion washing over Aubrey’s pretty face and stay on topic. “You never need to stay up on my account. If you’re wiped out for whatever reason, you can always go to bed first, whether I’m still awake or not.”
Aubrey looks at me like I’m crazy. “Every night at ten, I need to send in that form certifying you’ve been a good little boy all day, remember? And I can’t do that, if I’ve been sleeping on the job.”