Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I bit the inside of my cheek, realizing I’d just said more about what it had felt like being repressed than I’d ever told anyone—other than maybe my brother, back in the day.
Something about Rush made me feel like I could spill what was on my mind, though. Maybe I just felt like I had nothing to lose.
“Heartbreaking,” Rush said, furrowing his brow. “And you never thought about leaving here for a big city? Somewhere you could start fresh?”
I shook my head. “Nah. Not really. This is my home. I love my family, and I love the land here. And I found my way, after all those years. I’m definitely not in the closet anymore.”
One of his dimples appeared as he grinned, clearly enjoying that answer. “Definitely not.”
A silence bloomed between us and I couldn’t stop staring at the spot where his shirt unbuttoned, giving way to the soft skin just above his collarbone. Christ, I wanted to be close to him again. Would it really be so bad to indulge in that again? To have a little secret fun with him, even knowing that it would only ever happen once? That soon enough he’d be gone again, and my crush would have to wither away like it did so many years ago?
Sounds like it could also be a recipe for loneliness, disappointment, and disaster, I thought idly, but the other thoughts were winning out at the moment.
“So,” Rush finally said, clapping his hands together and snapping me from the trance I’d been in. “You think this place has potential, right?”
I pulled in a long breath. “This place has good bones,” I said, running my hand along a wall and knocking a few times to find stud beams. “Great ones, actually. People love bungalows. This is a great home for starting a family.”
Rush snorted. “Or a family of one, if I were going to live in it.”
I hummed. “Let me guess: you never want to have kids?”
He shrugged a shoulder, heading over to the shelves near the fridge where there was a small collection of booze. “I actually always liked the idea of raising kids, but I just can’t imagine the rest of it. Settling down. Being with one person forever. You know what I mean?”
A strange sort of longing rippled through me. He actually liked the idea of raising kids? Thinking of Rush as a dad was a far-flung fantasy I would have never even considered.
“You would be a fucking awesome dad,” I blurted out without thinking. “I know you’re Mr. No Relationships, but shit, I could picture you being a father.”
He looked at me like I was nuts as he poured a drink. “Is that right?” he asked. “You see me out there in the yard tossing a baseball to some kid?”
I rolled my eyes. “We both know there’s more to being a good dad than that,” I said. “I could see you showing a kid how to be passionate about something. How to go for their dreams. And when they’re the right age, how to make a great cocktail.”
“Oh, any kid of mine would know how to make a great whiskey sour,” he joked.
“There you go.”
“Nathan makes it look easy, with Maddy. But then again, he has joint custody.”
“Nathan’s had to learn a lot over the years,” I said. “But I still think you’d be great at it.”
He passed me a short glass of whiskey. “You see me in a way that nobody else would, Shawn, I’ll tell you that.”
He gazed at me for a moment with some expression I couldn’t read. I wasn’t sure if he was contemplating kicking me out of his house or drawing me into another hug. There was a softness to his look that I hadn’t ever noticed before, too. I wanted to reach out and run my fingertips over his light dusting of freckles.
I wished I could look at all of him like this. To learn every part of him, naked, and have a mental map of every stupidly sexy thing about him.
“Come on. Let’s sit,” Rush said, guiding me over to the dining room table, which was another unique part of the house. It looked like it had once been a simple wood picnic bench type of table, but over the years it had become completely covered in paint, stickers, and carvings. It was cool as hell, actually, and after I sat to gaze at all of its years of stories and memories, I realized it was one of the best parts of the house.
Rush hadn’t inherited a perfect house, but he’d definitely inherited a house with tons of character.
Somehow he made more sense here. I could picture him in a slick, expensive San Francisco apartment, but I liked it better seeing him in the house where he grew up, even if he wasn’t planning on being here long-term.