Page 34 of Bound By Words

Nathan: I know. Thank you.

The masculine urge to blast loud, angry music was intense as I climbed into my Ford Bronco, but I knew it wouldn’t be cathartic or healthy, so I opted to lose myself in an audiobook on the drive down. While I’d never admitted it to her or her husband, I enjoyed Chase’s books and was working my way through her backlist by sneaking in her audiobooks when I had the time.

Romance novels hadn’t appealed to me before—Evan’s works were more in my target genre—but something about how she developed these complex characters drew me in. I was sure it’d give Emory another excuse to tease me about being a hopeless romantic, but he wouldn’t strictly be wrong. I did want romance, too, someone to take care of and who tried to take care of me in return. It was lonely trying to be the only partner who had their shit together. I wanted to be a hot mess with someone and have them love me despite my flaws.

With my fortieth birthday approaching, I was worried I’d be single forever.

Gravel crunched under my tires as I slowed and turned down the narrow drive to my grandfather’s old property. The farmhouse on the road had been sold with a small plot of land, neither of my siblings wanting it, but I’d retained the deed to his acreage and the large warehouse-like barn I’d filled with his equipment before we’d sold off his construction business.

My brother had thought it was pointless for me to keep the workshop, but I hadn’t wanted to let it go. Maybe it was because it was my last link to our grandfather and, subsequently, our father. I sometimes wondered if I’d made a mistake walking away from the family business, but it also allowed me to stay close to my roots.

Carpentry had been my first love—another result of scouting and my shadowing grandfather during the summers. Sometimes, I drove down here on the weekends to start a new project, the most recent being a new dining room set for my mother’s house. It was nearly complete, the chairs glued, sanded, and cleaned for staining, covered with cloth tarps as they awaited the mahogany stain I’d picked out. The tabletop was done, propped up on a set of sawhorses, but I hadn’t liked the legs I’d been trying to fine-tune the turning on. I was out of practice, and I knew old Bradley Sr. wouldn’t approve of how I neglected my skills, but it still made me feel close to him to use his workshop.

The trailer was a little dusty as I unlocked the old Airstream, but after a thorough wipe-down, it was clean enough for me. I opened the side door of the building, hitching it to the Bronco so I had a place to sleep while I worked on Evan’s property. There weren’t any hotels close enough to make the expense and commute time worth it, and it was weird to be a guest in someone’s home for extended periods. Evan had permitted me to clear some of the trees closer to the house, so I had somewhere to park it long-term, but he’d told me I could put it in his detached garage until I could get some gravel down after I’d cleared the space.

The rain let up briefly as I drove the half-hour to their house, carefully backing the trailer into the garage, leaving space for the Bronco beside it. Evan’s car was in Boston, and I knew Chase’s had been sold a few months ago because she’d been having some transmission issues. It wasn’t like they needed two cars anyway; Evan continued to stick close to home often, and they rarely spent any significant time apart.

While I was sure some people thought they were on the co-dependent side, I knew it wasn’t because they needed each other to survive. They genuinely wanted to be in each other’s lives. Emory and Talia were the same way. I’d never found that, and part of me wanted it desperately.

Before the rain started back up, I quickly made a trip into Ashford, filling up my cooler with food staples and some non-perishables. Chase had texted that they had a freezer full of pre-made meals, but I’d picked up some tricks over the years to keep myself fed without solely relying on takeout. It was not an option here, with the closest restaurants nearly an hour away.

It was dark when I returned to the house, and the rain started pouring down in sheets. The lane to the house was dark, the floodlight only flicking on once I’d pulled up to the garage door. I could see the merits of living like this, but I still preferred the convenience of living in a major city like Boston.

Knowing that I’d likely be wearing myself out over the next few days, I quickly hooked the Airstream up to the external power supply in the garage, set up my small generator to charge, and stowed my groceries in the cooler until the fridge had cooled down enough to put them away.

Falling asleep didn’t come as quickly as I would have liked, so I popped in my headphones to continue listening to the book I’d started on the drive down.

I passed out somewhere between the meet-cute, where the heroine embarrassed herself in front of the love interest, and their first kiss—dreaming of soft lips, dark brown hair, and Kelly’s raspy moan.

NATHAN

Connecticut

There was a light layer of fog in the air when I opened the side door to the garage the next day, the heavy mist making the woods around the property look slightly ominous.

Connecting to the Wi-Fi with the password Chase had sent me, I quickly checked the weather, ensuring the rain was planning to stay away so I could get some work done this morning.

While the forecast for the rest of the week looked filled with scattered thunderstorms and possibly some ice, it was supposed to be another clear, chilly New England spring day as soon as the fog cleared.

I still needed to pack the trailer full of most of my tools and equipment, but I’d brought my trusty ax and a chainsaw to work on clearing the brush while the weather was questionable. That was a reason this job wasn’t supposed to start until things had begun to dry out in May, but there was no way I was remaining in Boston while things were so tense.

I knew it was avoidant behavior, and I would have to talk this out with Grace eventually, but I was protecting myself right now. I needed space to make sense of what I wanted going forward. She’d broken my trust, so entering another one-off play relationship with her was out of the question, but I didn’t want to burn bridges because someone else fed her lies.

Marisa worried me more than I wanted to admit. She’d always been a little emotionally fragile, but I kept reminding myself that she was an adult, and I wasn’t her savior. She’d freely ended our dynamic and hadn’t tried to contact me since, despite the lies she’d told Grace. She may have believed there was a chance that her child was mine, but I knew that it wasn’t. Out of an abundance of caution, I had myself retested every year and was medically sterile. My most recent test results from January proved I was STD-free and shooting blanks. Not that there’d been much shooting since February.

The fog was starting to clear as I grabbed my ax and work gloves, throwing my wayward hair into a half bun before I stepped out the side door. It was cold, but I left my beanie off, tucking it into my back pocket. As soon as I started working, I knew I’d get too hot to keep it on.

As I stepped into the wooded area just past the poured concrete driveway, the soil sank under my work boots. While I knew it meant I wasn’t likely to be able to start framing within the next few days, I found I didn’t mind. The fresh air and the quiet surroundings were already working their magic as I felt my mind and body relax. It was worth the delay to get away from everything bothering me.

Otherwise, I never would have been able to shake the anxious feeling that staying in Boston had caused after the other day at Grace’s building. My phone was silent again, her persistent calls tapering off after I didn’t respond. Marisa still hadn’t tried to contact me, but it was only a matter of time before she realized her attention-seeking behavior with Grace hadn’t worked.

Thwack

As the ax lodged into a small tree trunk, I surveyed the area, figuring out the easiest place to work. There was the rotting, jagged stump of an old tree about ten feet into the woods, but I’d need to get my chainsaw out to turn it into a flat work surface.

I paused as I returned to the driveway, frowning as I noticed a familiar Audi parked close to the house. It hadn’t been there when I returned from the store, and I didn’t recall hearing anyone outside last night. But the wind of the thunderstorm had likely drowned out the arrival of a car pulling up.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked the time, noting it was just after 7:00 a.m. I wasn’t sure what the time difference was, but I texted Evan.

---