Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
They continued to eat, but didn’t talk about Patricia or Nathan anymore. He admitted he’d never tasted Deacon’s ice cream, and Deacon told him he should come down. They discussed sports and Covington Acres.
“I looked it up. Craziest shit I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe people want to paint, exercise, carve pumpkins, watch movies, and have s’mores with goats.” Grady laughed.
“It’s real popular. I have a small portable freezer and take it to the farm sometimes for movies in the late spring and summer.”
When the waitress took their bowls and asked if they wanted refills of their coffee, Grady looked at Deacon.
“I’ll take another cup,” Deacon replied, so Grady did too.
They talked about Grady’s four years in the army, and where he was from, then the North Carolina weather. “I know it’s crazy, but I love the rain,” Grady told him. “Nothing like sitting outside and listening to a storm, especially in the summer.”
“Are you kidding? That doesn’t sound crazy. I do the same thing. I got a screened-in porch, and I go out there.”
“Look at you, liking what I like. Stop copying me,” Grady teased, and thankfully, Deacon chuckled. Since they didn’t really know each other and had met under painful circumstances, he worried it wasn’t the right time to joke around.
“I have a feeling I’m older than you, so seems like you’d be the one copying me,” Deacon replied.
“Thirty-eight,” Grady told him.
“Got ya beat by two years.”
When their coffees were finished, Deacon stuck to water and Grady ordered a sweet tea.
“You’re one of those, huh?” Deacon asked.
“And what’s that?”
“Sweet-tea drinkers. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person in the South who doesn’t drink it.”
Grady laughed. “It’s good, so that clearly means something’s wrong with you.”
“Heard that before.”
From there the conversation continued to foods they liked and didn’t like, and on and on. Before Grady realized it, they’d been talking for three hours.
“I should probably head out,” Deacon said. “Didn’t mean to keep you this long.”
“No, no. I’m the one who’s interrupted your life. I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me. It’s, um…been a long time since I’ve just sat around and enjoyed someone’s company so much.” Grady wasn’t sure Deacon knew it, but a small frown curled the edges of his lips. Shit. Should he not have said that? He couldn’t help that it was how he felt.
“Yeah…me too,” Deacon said.
“Can I buy this?”
“You don’t have—”
“I want to. It’s important to me.”
Deacon hesitated a moment, then gave a slow nod. “All right. When you come by Sundae’s Best, ice cream is on me.”
Grady paid the bill, making sure to leave a hefty tip for the waitress who’d had to deal with them for so long. Then they walked out together, and Grady found himself bummed that the meal was over. He hadn’t been lying. He really had enjoyed talking with Deacon. There was something calming about him. Something that eased Grady’s loneliness and made him feel comfortable. It hadn’t been like they’d just met or met under strange circumstances.
Deacon rubbed a hand over his head. “Well, thanks again. Guess I’ll see you around.”
“Sure will. I was promised ice cream,” he teased. “Thanks again for doing this.”
Deacon waved that off, gave him a small, almost sad smile, and walked away.
Grady sighed, feeling out of sorts for some reason, and headed to his vehicle.
Chapter 6
Deacon
It had been three days since he had breakfast with Grady.
If he was being honest, he was still confused about the whole thing. Or maybe confused wasn’t the right word, not for all of it, but he couldn’t wrap his brain around what happened.
Patricia had been right about Nathan.
And now Nathan’s good friend—the man he’d lived with, and grown with, and trusted with pieces of himself he’d never shared with his family, the man he’d cared about and who still mourned the loss of Nathan in similar ways as Deacon did Patricia—had moved to Everett, and Deacon had spent hours talking to him.
He liked Grady. Felt a connection to him he was still trying to figure out.
And damned if he wasn’t obsessing over him too. He’d had his brain on the man for three days, and it was driving him out of his fool mind.
Why hadn’t Grady stopped by?
Why did Deacon care?
Christ, he was a mess.
He shook his head and got back to work. He was making ice cream today. Depending on the season, he spent one to two days a week getting them stocked up. They kept containers in the freezer, of course, always had extra on hand, but during the winter months, he was mostly able to limit it to the single day, while he always needed more when it was warmer.
He hadn’t worked out the pecan flavor yet, nor what he wanted to do for the winter season, but he’d been thinking on it a lot.