Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“I know.” I laugh, setting Autumn down on the floor as she squirms. “Trust me, I know. It’s wild. The art snob and the sheep farmer, procreating and settling into a happily ever after.”
“Maybe there’s, like, a sheepish niche in the art world you don’t know about yet. Or at the very least, rustic, rural pieces.”
I snort. “Yeah, I don’t know… I might just be done.”
“Really? I mean, I support you in whatever direction you want to go, you know that. But stepping away for good? That’s a big deal.”
“I know it is. I won’t decide yet, while I’m hormonal and emotional and jaded and everything. I’ll wait until I have a clear head.” I shrug. “But I think it speaks volumes that I’ve yet to respond to that shark of a headhunter you sent my way. Over the past few months, he’s sent me more offers than I can count and I just…don’t want anything to do with any of it. And that was before I found out I was baking Tad’s baby bun in my oven.”
“It certainly says something.” She nods. “And being here with Tad? It’s good?”
I smile. I can’t help it. “It’s amazing, Nor. He’s patient and helpful and funny and…” I sigh. “I’m having a really hard time remembering what I liked so much about living alone.”
“And the sex? That’s good too?”
I cackle. “Norah!”
“Sexxxx,” Autumn repeats, and Norah’s eyes widen.
“Whoops.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “But it’s good?”
“Norah, please,” I chastise before smirking. “But I am pregnant after all, so I suppose you can be the judge.”
She hums, snuggling into her coffee mug. “Oh yeah. Hot Farmer Tad.”
I snort. “You’re asking for trouble with your husband today. First Logan and now the lust?”
“I’m not saying for meeee. I’m just happy for you. I have my own hot things, but I’m betting you don’t want to hear about those because they have everything to do with your brother and how good he is at…” She waggles her brows, and I pretend to cover my ears.
“Lalalala.”
Her laugh rings throughout the kitchen and spreads to Autumn, who’s made a playground out of the Tupperware cabinet in the corner. She bangs a lid against the wooden floor, and an overwhelming peace falls over me at the sight of her.
Maybe, just maybe, slow life in Red Bridge is exactly what I needed.
“All right,” Norah declares, rinsing her coffee mug in the sink and giving it a quick cleaning before setting it in the strainer. “We’ll get out of your hair for now. But call me later, you know, when you’re ready to mend the fence with Logan.”
“You’re relentless.”
Norah smiles, coming toward me quickly and pulling me into a hug so fierce, I almost tear up. “I love you. You’re my family, and selfishly, I want all the eggs of my family in the same basket before Easter.”
“I’ll try. But not today. After Tad gets back from Molene, I think we’re going to go on a date.”
She pulls back and claps in between us. “Okay, then. Let’s go, Autumn. Aunt Breezy has some nesting to do before she can get done in the much better, much dirtier way, and as is obvious by the mess you’ve made of this cabinet, organization is not this age’s strong suit.”
I roll my eyes and kiss Autumn on the cheek, and Norah scoops her and their belongings up, waving at me before they shove through the door. Without their distraction, it’s officially time to clean.
…
I’ve seen avalanches with more structure than the closet in Tad’s guestroom on the first floor.
Straddling the stack of clothes I just knocked off the bar, I wobble like a newborn deer and grab the top box from the leaning tower of chaos before it topples. “My gosh, this is like Monica’s secret closet on Friends,” I mutter, shimmying back and trying not to fall or break something. “Who knew Tad was such a packrat when he’s so neat everywhere else.”
My phone chimes from the nightstand, and I detour through the mess, climb over a stray boot, and grab it.
A text message from Tad is the only notification on the screen, drawing my cheeks up and out as I click to read it.
Tad: Coming back into Red Bridge now. Dropping off Randy, and then I’ll head toward home. Want me to pick up lunch on the way back? I can get nachos if they’re still calling to you, or something else if that craving joined the witness protection program.
I laugh under my breath. The nacho craving has, in fact, fled the country and assumed a new identity somewhere in Fryville.
Me: Nachos are out, Farm Daddy. Cheeseburger and fries are in. The greasier, the better.
Tad: Understood lol. I’ll call the diner and put in a to-go order. See you soon, Farm Mommy.