Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Michael Greer,” the one I’d pegged as Logan’s dad says. “I see you’ve met my sons, Logan and Jace.” He claps a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “This here is my younger brother, Owen, father of that little shit over there.”
CJ being the little shit in question.
“Reed Jamison,” Dad grunts. “My sons Rowdy and Ronan. The other two over there are Raegan and Ryder.”
Owen sighs in exasperation. “I see my son’s already in love.”
Dad ignores him, getting straight to business. “You have a woman who’s in labor?”
“My wife, Stacey,” Michael says, nodding. “Since she’s only seven months, I sure as hell hope not. We’ve been walking for weeks, not stopping to camp but a night or two. I’m hoping she’s just tired and suffering from Braxton Hicks. The alternative is scary as fuck. Considering you have four kids, I’d say you know the worry of childbirth in the wild with no medical assistance.”
“Eight,” I chime in, refusing to look at Dad or Rowdy and the daggers they shoot my way. “There are eight of us kids.”
“Damn.” Michael whistles. “I guess it’s safe to say you know a thing or two about delivering babies.”
Dad gives him a brief nod. “Where is she?”
Michael and Owen both tense. It’s safe to say they’re just as untrusting of us as we are of them. Owen scans the yard, clearly looking for threats, but then relaxes when he doesn’t find anyone lurking.
“The others are nearby,” Owen replies. “Don’t want to overstep our welcome.” His gaze falls on Fleabag braying from the goat pen. “I know a couple of little ones, though, who would be thrilled to see that goat.”
“How many people are in your camp?” Dad asks, still not giving an inch to these people.
“We’re up to twenty-eight now—” Michael’s words are cut short when a kid, maybe five or six, comes barreling through the gate.
“Goat!”
A woman, not much older than Rowdy, with long, curly, auburn hair chases after the kid. She snags him up before he reaches the gate. When she turns to us, her face is bright red and she’s equal parts embarrassed and terrified. The latter makes me feel like shit.
We’re not bad people.
Dad just likes scaring others into thinking that’s true.
“Hellie,” Michael calls out. “Come say hello to Mr. Jamison, who’s so kind as to allow us on his land.”
With the little one’s hand tightly clasped in hers, she approaches, eyeing my brother and father warily. I want to assure her no one here would hurt her, but Dad actually beats me to the punch.
“Reed,” he says, offering a hand for Hellie to shake. “Who’s this little guy?”
“I’m Nicky,” the kid says. “Can I play with your goat?”
“I’ll do you one better,” Dad replies, finally relaxing. “I’ll bring my son Dakota out. He’s almost six. I’m sure he can show you all sorts of cool stuff.” Then, to Michael, he says, “Go get your wife. I’ll get mine. We’ll see if we can’t make her more comfortable.”
Logan shoots me a triumphant grin.
This is going to be fun.
Us Jamison kids are long overdue for some fun.
“This place is mine,” I tell Logan as we step inside my cabin. Alone. “Ugh, it’s not that special.”
They’ve been here for a couple of hours now, setting up camp just outside, and their people coming inside the gate to check out our property. There are a lot of them, but they all seem nice. Lots of children too, about seven of which are under the age of ten, which makes all of my younger siblings thrilled beyond belief. As much as I like seeing all the new faces, I’m thankful for stealing away with Logan by ourselves.
Logan walks over to my floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that takes up an entire wall. “I beg to differ. This cabin is fucking awesome.”
Pride fills my chest and I let out a relieved breath. “I guess it kind of is.”
“You read all these?” Logan asks as he tugs a book off the shelf and eyes me over his shoulder.
“Most, yeah. Some I didn’t finish because they were boring or more Raegan’s preference, but some of those books I’ve read many, many times. Like the one in your hand.”
It was hidden up top, much different than the ones Raegan reads and out of her reach. Dad would kill me if she ever got her hands on it.
He takes a closer look at the book. “Romance book with aliens?”
“Yeah.” Heat floods my cheeks. “I just like them. I’ve read that entire series a bunch. Especially that book.”
“Interesting.” He flips through the book, landing on a dog-eared page. “This male alien is sucking another alien’s cock.”
I freeze, unable to formulate an answer. My skin prickles with shame.
“This is hot,” Logan murmurs. “No wonder you like this one so much. Can I borrow it?”
“Y-Yeah,” I stammer, barking out an awkward laugh. “Take whatever you want.”