Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I do. In the mornings, just for the next few weeks,” he said, glancing toward the street.
“That’s fine,” I said. “We’ll make it work.”
He blinked at me. “No problem?”
“No,” I said, smiling. “I know how the farming community works, and I’m sure you’ll be a big help. We’ll figure it out.”
Oliver looked toward the diner sign swinging in the breeze. “Do you want me to get someone temporary during that time?”
“Is it just three weeks?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath, tasting the coffee still lingering from the office. “Then no. I’d rather we just make it work. I can come in early and handle the phones. Training a temp would take just as long.”
His broad chest moved with his exhale. “You sure?”
“Yeah. What time will you be in?” I leaned against the car door, squinting at him under the glare of noon light.
“I’ll be in by eleven every day.” His tone carried that hopeful note that always made me laugh.
The gravel crunched under my heel as I shifted. “Good. When do you need to start?”
“Not till Monday.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Oliver.”
He stepped closer and caught my arm gently. The soft creak of leather filled the quiet between us. “No, thank you. Seriously. You gave me a life.”
I grinned. “You already had a life.”
Oliver gave a short laugh. “Ha. Without you, I’d be in jail instead of living on a farm with someone who’s become family.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “You would’ve figured it out, Oliver. I promise.”
“Thanks,” he said, his shoulders dropping as if some tension had finally let go.
I slid into my Fiat that my grandpa and I had rebuilt years ago. The seat was warm from the sun, and the faint smell of oil and old leather still clung to the interior. The car hadn’t been on the road since fall, but the engine turned over with a smooth, eager hum.
The air coming through the cracked window smelled of pine and damp gravel. As I pulled out of Timber City toward Silverville, the road curved through the pass where new wildflowers were already showing in sprays of yellow, violet, and stubborn bits of blue edging through the rocky soil.
My phone buzzed against the console. The sound was sharp in the small car. I hit the button. “Hey, Aiden.”
There was a short click before his voice came through, low and steady. “Hi. How are you?”
“I’m good.” I shifted my grip on the wheel, watching sunlight flash through the trees.
“I need to fly to Portland for the day,” he said. “I’ll be back either late tonight or tomorrow morning.”
The faint background whir of plane engines carried through the call. “Is this about your botanical case?”
“Botanical?” He laughed, the sound rough but amused. “You mean illegal health supplements. Yeah. We found another warehouse in southern Washington.”
“I thought the other one was in Portland.”
“Yeah. There’s quite the shipping line, I think.”
I enjoyed his voice all around me. “How’d you find this place?”
“The warehouse blew up. That keeps happening.”
I shivered. That wasn’t good. “Are you taking your whole team?”
“Yes, and I want you to be safe, okay? Set the alarm tonight if I don’t make it home.”
A lonely night without him? I kept my disappointment out of my voice. “I will.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m headed over to Silverville. I believe Deputy McCracken has to arrest Nana.”
Aiden’s sigh held weight. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep you updated.”
He exhaled into the phone, that quiet sound I’d come to recognize when he was still thinking of ten other things. “All right, angel. Be safe. Talk soon. Love you.”
The line clicked.
I stared at the phone for a second. The word felt different when it came out of nowhere like that. Sure, we’d said it on Valentine’s Day, but hearing it dropped into an ordinary afternoon still managed to catch me off guard.
The road ahead shimmered with light, and the scent of warm pine rolled through the open window. “Love you too,” I murmured.
Most people in my family didn’t bother with goodbyes. We just hung up. Maybe we needed a family meeting about manners.
I reached Silverville and followed the curve of the river, where the spring runoff shimmered in the sunlight.
By the time I turned onto my Nana and Bampa’s long drive, the world had gone quiet except for the rush of water and the rhythmic crunch of gravel under my tires. Their home sat on several acres facing the river, the sprawling farmhouse blending neatly into the green slope behind it.
Nana was already outside when I parked. I jumped out of my Fiat and hurried around to open the passenger side door. “You look beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She smiled and straightened her skirt. For her arrest, she had dressed to the nines in a fitted blue-and-white dress, matching heels, and sheer stockings. Her hair was carefully styled, showing streaks of reddish blonde threaded perfectly with gray. Her green eyes sparkled as she adjusted her purse. “You know,” she said, “I’ve never been arrested.”