Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
But this, this was close.
So incredibly close.
I pulled myself onto the floor, moving to stand up, ready to thank him.
But before I even could, he was grabbing my hand, pulling me over toward the beds, letting me see a pile of things I hadn't noticed before.
Shovels, hoes, potting soil, organic, non-GMO seed packets, a watering can, and a pair of shears. All the accessories that could be were in bright, obnoxious colors, because he knew that was what I would like.
God, he was good.
He was so, so incredibly good.
"What's this?" I asked, gesturing toward a small metal bucket.
"That is some fancy ass composting system. Apparently, it will give you fresh compost every three days if you keep adding shit to it. And I know you are always complaining about wasting the bits of the fruits and vegetables you have to cut off to cook. And the coffee grounds. And eggshells. Now you can put them to use to feed your little garden."
I honestly just simply had no words.
I couldn't think of a single thing to say to this amazing, thoughtful, observant man.
"It's just temporary," he said, misinterpreting my silence. "I promise this won't be forever, babe. You'll be back in your garden and greenhouse in no time flat. I know this isn't the sam..."
I turned to him, knowing my eyes were a little swimmy, and not caring at all.
"I love you," I cut off his speech, knocking him silent. "I love you," I repeated, moving closer, putting my hands on his stomach. "You're the most amazing, thoughtful man I've ever met. Thank you so much for this."
The relief made his tense features ease almost immediately.
"You love me?" he asked after a long minute, voice sounding almost confused by the idea.
"More than I knew was even possible," I admitted, seeing no reason not to give him the full truth.
It happened then.
For the first time.
His eyes lost every single bit of their sadness.
And the beauty left behind was almost blinding.
His hands moved around me, curling around my lower back, his head dipping down slightly. "I fucking love you too, Rey. More than I knew I was even capable."
Feeling the hitch in my breathing, knowing I was going to get all blubbery, I leaned forward, resting my head in the crook of his neck, and letting it out.
It was a long while later that his lips pressed into my hair, and he spoke again.
"I owe that cat a gold fucking food dish."
Reeve - 1 year
Shit happened.
With V. With us.
Slowly, then all at once.
But that is a story for another day.
I chose not to relive the most violent parts of that year.
There were too many other things to choose to focus on.
Like the day when it was finally, finally all over, and we could go back to Rey's house.
We had been there on and off over those many long months, cleaning, exchanging out wardrobes when the seasons changed, taking care of her lawn and the constant need to fill outdoor bird feeders and refill the water in the sunken bathtub that was in the yard for the ducks and geese who visited in the warm months.
But we had never risked staying the night. Not in such a big house. Not all alone. And Rey decided that moving the animals in and out all the time would be too upsetting. So we had called The Henchmen compound home for the better part of that first year.
Where she built relationships with my men.
Where she snuck healthy shit into their bodies.
Where we were safe to start building a relationship.
But the day we officially moved into Babcia's old house, arms full of various critter carriers, that was the day we were able to start building a life.
And, oddly, it just all clicked.
Into a new kind of normal.
Rey went about her life much the way she had before, and the way she had in the compound, proving to be a woman who was extremely adaptable to new situations. She cleaned, took care of the animals, cooked, made her soaps, fixed her furniture finds. When the weather turned warmer, I could always count on finding her out in the garden. Or, often, passed out on a hammock in the middle of the day.
"But what if she doesn't like me?" Rey asked, showing an uncharacteristic amount of insecurity.
See, Wasp was coming to visit.
After keeping her away for a year, she had turned her camper away from where she was headed the second I made a call and told her the coast was clear.
Her plan was to spend the first night with Cy and Reese, then to show up at our door.
And Rey was having a mini panic attack about it.
Honestly, if I didn't feel bad for her, it would almost be funny.
This woman, this airy, laid-back, go-with-the-flow woman, was freaking out.
I had woken up this morning to find she had left me sometime in the middle of the night to go downstairs and rearrange all the goddamn living room furniture. And then used me to help change it back when she didn't like it that way either.