Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Fuck.
I nod, because I don’t want to sour today for him. I really am happy as hell for Jesse and Andi. I’m also not sure if I can cook with Mia and not provoke her into burning the whole cabin down just to spite me. “Yeah. We’ll figure it out.”
The rest of the team comes by, quickly greeting me and telling me I’m overdue to give them some money in poker when I’m done screwing around in the kitchen. They give me shit for staying away from the cabin so much already and tease me when the women aren’t close enough to hear, assuming I’ve already been sleeping with Mia at all hours of the day and night.
Once I finally peel away from them, I head into the kitchen and set down the bags of food I brought on the counter. The women look up at me like I’m a lion who just cornered them.
“What?” I ask, even though Jesse’s reaction told me everything I need to know. I’ve had my head up my ass and haven’t realized how distant I’ve been from everyone.
“You came?” Andi asks. She does a little excited dance, balling up her fists. Then she comes up and hugs me tight.
“Careful,” I say, looking toward her belly. “Don’t squish him.”
“Or her,” she says, squeezing me in the hug anyway.
I smirk and hug her back. Caroline is beaming at me like I just saved kids from a church fire. “What?” I ask, gently peeling Andi off me, only so Caroline will stop looking at me like that.
“You look good, Nolan. Getting enough sleep?” she asks.
“What the hell does that mean?” I snap.
“Nothing,” she shrugs with her coffee mug in her hands. She looks smug. Why does she look smug?
“Are you going to help?” Mia asks. “Or were you just planning to scowl and bark at us all afternoon?”
12
MIA
Nolan and I settle into a wordless rhythm in the kitchen. He takes over the prep and lets me handle the stove work, which is a slight surprise. I would’ve expected him to demand the more technical work of getting the cook right on all the components of the meal, but he seems content to chop and organize what I’ll need.
I’m searing chicken thighs in a cast iron while my mind runs on overdrive.
It was hard to see the way Nolan looked when he showed up today. He seemed genuinely happy for Jesse and Andi. He even seemed a little hurt when everyone kept joking about how they thought he might not show up. None of that tracks with the heartless bad boy persona he seems to be projecting lately.
“Did you know?” I ask. It’s the first personal question I’ve asked in the twenty minutes or so we’ve been cooking together. The team is playing cards with Andi and Caroline. It’s sweet seeing how all the guys took their protectiveness of her to new heights as soon as they learned she was pregnant. They’re constantly pulling out chairs, bringing blankets, asking if she needs anything, and pampering her.
“That you’d be here?” he asks.
I grin with my back to him. Is that where his mind went when I asked? Somehow, that feels telling, but I can’t say how, exactly. “About the pregnancy.”
“Oh. No. Jesse called me yesterday and told me. I heard it took them like twenty minutes to make the guys understand what they were trying to announce. Something about a bear rug ritual and shirts off.”
I laugh at the memory. “I can confirm that,” I say. “It was ridiculous. Do they always jump into celebration mode so easily? Jesse came out with his shirt off and it was like they all turned into animals.”
“It’s a team thing,” Nolan explains. “You spend so much time with people. You put everything you have on the line so many times. You’re all constantly on the same wavelength, working toward the same goal. Sometimes all you really need to know is one of your brothers is excited, and you feel it, too.”
I lift a corner of the chicken with my tongs, checking the sear. It needs another minute or so.
The conversation so far with Nolan feels like some of the most normal words we’ve shared since he came back to Frosty Harbor. Maybe it’s our mutual, unspoken agreement not to fight and spoil today for Andi and Jesse. We both care about them and are happy about their pregnancy.
“So,” I say, stopping to wash some sauce off my hands by the sink. “If you had been here, would you have ripped off your shirt, too? For some reason, I can’t picture that.”
He doesn’t answer right away, so I steal a glance over my shoulder. I see his broad back in a black shirt. He’s wide in the shoulders and thick in the arms with a waist that tapers like a superhero’s build. His jeans are hugging his ass and thighs in a very distracting way, too. I look back at what I’m doing before he catches me peeking.