Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
He shrugged. “Beats the fuck out of me. I was with King in his studio and we were going over some business shit. The next minute Doe, I mean RAY, calls King on his phone and then he’s asking me to watch the kids for a while because he has to go meet her.”
“I hope everything is all right,” I said.
“He didn’t tell me what was going on, but he didn’t have that ‘life or death’ look about him, and trust me I’m pretty familiar with that look,” Preppy said. “I’m pretty sure if they’re asking me to watch their kids though, it must be a sign of the zombie apocalypse.”
“Must be,” I giggled, loving the interesting places his mind went.
“Seriously, zombie apocalypse is seriously the only reason I could think of why they would want me to look after their little sex trophies when they’ve got lots of other people to call on.”
“First of all, they’ve seen how great you are with Bo, so that’s Bullshit. Second of all, sex trophies?” I asked.
“Yeah, you know, cause they’re a product of...”
“Uh, I get it. I know how that works, Preppy.”
“Oh DO you?” he asked, wagging an eyebrow.
“Shit,” I said, as a realization kicked in. “The grill doesn’t work. It’s ancient so I put it to the curb with the trash last week. Should we make the burgers in a pan or bake them in the oven?”
“Blasphemy!” Preppy shouted, gasping and looking around like he was making sure no one else heard me. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You do realize you’re in the south, right?”
“Uh, yeah, but what does that mean? That doesn’t automatically give us a working grill.” I jumped up to sit on the counter, my legs dangling against the cabinet as I watched Preppy move around the kitchen with ease.
“That means that us southern boys can pretty much make a grill out of anything,” Preppy said, plating the last burger. “I’m like a redneck MacGyver.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it,” I said, teasingly.
“What do you want to bet?” Preppy stalked across the kitchen, getting as close as he could to me with only the tray of burgers between us. My body zinged and hummed like a light being turned on for the first time in a long time.
“What do you got? I asked, suggestively.
Bo appeared in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with the ball of his hand and yawning. “Bo, my man! Just in time. You must come with me so we can do man things!” Preppy said with as deep a voice as he could muster. He beat his closed fists on his chest.
Bo smiled and was instantly awake as he followed Preppy out into the back yard. “Man the mac and cheese, woman! We will be right back,” he said, shutting the sliding glass door.
As crazy and silly as that man could be, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It took a lot of crazy to put up with me and Samuel Clearwater was my kind of crazy.
I finished up the mac and cheese and put it in the oven to warm while Preppy took all three kids through the back gate into the open field. They were gone for about twenty minutes when they’d come back carrying a clay pot and an old shopping cart.
“Why do people always dump their garbage next to the tracks?” I asked as Preppy set the cart sideways over the clay pot.
“What garbage?” Preppy asked, taking a step back. “This is a state of the art cooking machine, right kids?” All three kids nodded or cheered enthusiastically as they watched Preppy turn junk into a grill. A half an hour later the four of us sat on the steps in the back yard as the sun set, eating mac and cheese, and burgers cooked on a shopping cart.
The kids finished their food and started a squealing game of tag in which Oscar decided he wanted to be a part of, bumping between kids and practically hopping around as they ran from one side of the yard to the other.
Preppy shifted next to me so that our thighs were touching. He took my hand in his and the warmth of his palm ran up my arm straight into my heart. “You know,” he said, caressing my hand with his thumb. “You’ve done a really, really great job with the place.” Preppy pointed through the sliders into the living room of the house. “I know you were talking about getting a job as a counselor, but personally I think this is what you should be doing. Building stuff. Designing stuff. Making old shit look new again. You’re amazing at it.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” I admitted, blushing at his compliment. “But it’s not as noble as being a drug counselor but I do love it.” I chewed on my bottom lip.