Take Me Home by Cassie Mint

Author:Cassie Mint [Mint, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2022-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

Nine

Josie

The last shovel of dirt to complete the vegetable patch should be an amazing feeling. I did it all on my own, and it was hard, but I’m a freaking ninja with the shovel now. This is a small triumph, sure, but I’ll take any victories I can get.

So it should feel good, and so should the distant thump of Everett’s truck door four days after he left. I should beam like Harry, jogging to meet his uncle at the truck.

It doesn’t feel good. I don’t jog over.

Guess I need to find a real job now. It’s time to move on, to get out of Everett Bray’s thick, dark hair, because he clearly doesn’t want me here. I’ve already chased him off his own property once.

God. I can’t believe I threw myself at him like that. Can’t believe I got drunk and stripped off my clothes in front of my ex boyfriend’s uncle, then cried when he didn’t want my pathetic ass.

Yeah. A real low point.

But the only way from here is up. Right? And I’m done making shitty decisions. I’m going to move along from the Barns, find a new job, and start over. Going to make myself proud.

“Did they like it?” I call when Everett strides closer, Harry chatting a mile a minute at his side. “Did they like the dresser?”

Everett nods, the corner of his mouth lifting under his beard. He’s pleased, then. And he looks more relaxed too after a few days away, his shoulders looser under his faded gray shirt.

“Josie finished your vegetable patch,” Harry’s telling him, throwing me a wink as they brush past into Everett’s kitchen. I follow, chewing on my bottom lip. “It’s the best damn rectangle of soil you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“In anyone’s lives,” I add, propping the door open with a brick behind us. There’s not much of a breeze today, but if we can coax it inside, we will. “Folks will write poems about that patch of dirt.”

“Oh yeah? How are your hands?” Everett asks, glancing over his shoulder, his deep voice rolling through the kitchen. I try not to shiver, turning and hopping up to sit on the counter, then wiggle my fingers.

“Good as new.”

We fall back into a familiar rhythm: Harry at the table, holding court with his stories and wild jokes; Everett brewing peppermint teas at the counter; and me staring at the floor and trying not to make heart eyes at the one man I can’t have.

Maybe I could nanny somewhere. Those jobs come with room and board, right?

“Fire pit tonight,” Harry announces. “To celebrate.”

And that takes me back to coming here as a teenager. Everett would get the fire going for our little crew, lecture us all on fire safety, then leave us with marshmallows to toast and a handheld fire-extinguisher.

I glance up, and hazel eyes watch me from over by the counter.

“Josie?” Harry prods.

I inhale sharply and nod. “Sounds good.”

The next job doesn’t matter really. Don’t need to be picky.

I just need to get gone.

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