The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) by Carrie Thorne (christmas read aloud TXT) 📕

by the way. Paul decided this would be a perfect father-son project–which he knows I hate. I had to rip out dog-piss carpet for you. Fourteen-hour days getting this place cleaned up so it would be done before you got here. And I’m stuck bunking with a snooty attorney that already divided up our cooking nights.”

“Why didn’t you nab this place for yourself?” He glanced around. “Don’t your folks own this and the house?”

“Yeah. I’m buying the house in a few months, but for the first time in my life I’m trying to not rush into a situation. Sophie says I’m not allowed to propose until we’ve been together at least six months, I can do my own laundry without turning my whites pink again, and can cook a decent dinner that doesn’t involve open flames or peanut butter. Living next door sounded like a little too easy of access.”

“Smart woman. I should have done that same fucking thing.” Zane took a pull on the dark brew, wishing he’d left the lid on longer as it was already lukewarm.

“I can’t say I regret never meeting your ex-wife. Sounded like a real peach.”

“She’s half the reason I joined the damn Navy, after she’d dug us irretrievably into debt.” Zane had joined a few years before Asher, and they’d hit it off immediately, then Jack joined up, and the rest was history. Blaire hadn’t even made it through his first op before the screaming matches and guilt trips began. That had been a hell of a homecoming. I need someone who will be here for me. To not be called away at a moment’s notice while I’m trying to build my career. She’d claimed she couldn’t handle worrying over him like that, not even knowing where he was, yet in the same sentence she blamed him for making her miss a critical conference call.

Asher winced.

Zane hauled his ass off the couch and scowled out the window. “How the hell did we get on that stupid fucking topic?”

“Sorry. My fault.”

Across the field, the lawn made way to a wide patio that created a perfect lookout, right down to the rustic log fence before dropping off to the valley beyond, the view like something out of an REI ad. Right in the center, that crazy woman with the perfect ass was upside-down in a yoga pose, her leg pointed straight up to the sky, and her wild black hair was free, skimming the mat at her feet.

Gently swaying with the breeze, the trees at the edges of the yard seemed to welcome the morning right along with her. Moving gracefully into the next pose, she stood and raised her arms above her head like the mountain in the distance.

Asher cleared his throat, “Hungry?”

Nodding, Zane swallowed the desperate whimper that nearly gave him away. His voice came out croaky. “Starving.”

Tearing into the English muffin that sandwiched the melty sharp cheddar over fried egg and seasoned sausage, he asked through his full bite. “How’d you end up living with a snooty lawyer?”

Grinning, Asher ripped off a bite of his own breakfast. “I just needed a place to crash for the next few months, and I get to annoy the hell out of Grady while I’m at it.”

“Nice arrangement.”

“I thought so. Honestly, he’s a good guy, he just needs to realize it instead of defaulting to prick. So, I help him get his head out of his ass, he teaches me how to cook and clean and all that bullshit I managed to dodge the first thirty years of my life.”

Zane took another gulp of coffee, downing the last of it as his headache retreated to the periphery. They ate in silence for a bit. After enough years of ops together, they had no problems not filling the silence in with small talk.

Clearing their trash from breakfast, Zane stuffed everything in the paper bag and tucked it under the sink, adding kitchen garbage can to his shopping list. Bathroom too, he supposed.

Asher hopped to his feet and eyed the boxes. “Need a hand unpacking?”

Shaking his head, Zane’s vision blurred as he took in all the work ahead of him. “Nope, thanks though. As I have zero plans for the next… eternity, I may as well take my time.”

“It’ll come to you.”

“I guess. First time in my life I don’t have a single thing on the calendar.”

“Why don't you make use of that degree of yours?”

“Did I mention I only studied architecture because my parents are architects and Blaire wanted to be an architect and how romantic to be partners in life and in business? Turns out, not so romantic when one of us has no interest in designing shit for other people to criticize. Married, divorced, and broke before my twenty-fourth birthday.” He ripped open the kitchen box and pulled out his coffee pot, unwinding the kitchen towel he’d wrapped around the fragile glass carafe.

“Well, now you’re thirty-four, frugal as an old man, have absolutely no responsibilities, and are already making eyes at my cousin.”

“Your cousin? Shit man, I’m sorry. Was I that obvious?”

“You’ve still got a stream of drool running down your chin. Have at her; she’ll have no qualms about telling you off if she’s not interested.” Asher winked and headed for the door. With his hand on the knob, he shrugged, “I’ll be back tomorrow and we can head into town, pick up anything you need. Careful, if we spend too long at the hardware store, my dad may try to rope you into working for him.”

Zane snorted, “We’ll see. I think I’ll take the rest of the summer off.”

Prickles sprouted from her skin as the breeze cooled her sweat-soaked body. Freya ended her morning routine and rested her hands on her hips, taking in the ridiculously epic view. In all