Read Online Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) by BT Urruela - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: BT Urruela
Tags: Book One, Broken Outlaw Series
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amber and fiery orange as the sun dips into the horizon. The evening breeze sways the tree branches rhythmically. It’s so damn beautiful in this part of the country at this time of year—better than any place I’ve been so far.
The rocker creaks and groans against the guesthouse porch as my foot bobs back and forth. I fall into somewhat of a trance, the beauty of the country settling me.
I have an ice cold beer in my hand, one of several I’ve had while waiting. I try my best to keep my white button-up stain free, which, for me, is a feat in and of itself…beers or not. It’s one of the many things Jack and I have in common.
I’m not often a man who spends a lot of time in front of the mirror, but tonight I had reason. Though it pains me to admit it, I spent twenty-something minutes getting my hair just right—and shamefully scowling back at myself, of course.
But what can I say? I’ve never craved someone like I do Paige, and while I know all the reasons she and I can’t hook up, it just makes the prospect of it that much more appealing.
It makes her untouchable. And I like untouchable. That’s not something a man can even help.
Jack and Teresa have already made their way to the festival. We set everything up earlier, but Jack has to get his pinot noir in to the judges. Paige and Brandi are on something like the second hour of getting ready, but with a few beers and the evening as beautiful as it is, I don’t mind the wait.
We can’t leave until Ethan gets here anyway. Brandi made sure he would be available to DD tonight. Probably a good idea as I can hear the girls whooping it up in the main house with 90’s hip-hop blaring, likely on their second or third glass of wine.
It usually takes five minutes to get into town, but it took us a good twenty this go-around and ten more to find a good parking spot. Plenty of time for the women to fill the SUV with a flurry of rap lines, make-up touch-ups and tipsy selfies… and for us men to sit in the front in awkward silence. If traffic were any indication, the entire town truly does come out for this thing.
Roads are blocked off and people walk the brightly lit downtown area in all directions. Rows of tables with tents and various community entities are in every direction. There’s Whittaker’s serving sliders and craft beer, Brooke’s Books with new and used paperbacks, and Sunshine Cleaners with business cards and smiling faces. Archie’s Sporting Goods has set up a basketball net, and there’s a line of excited kids alongside the table. VFW Post 63 is located beside them, taking donations, and you can’t miss the Club Rapid girls with over-sweetened shots and skimpy clothes.
Then you have all the wineries. They make up the bulk of the tables, and each one offers free samples. The sight instantly gets me excited. My buzz is already well on its way and free alcohol shines like a beacon of continued happiness. In the middle of everything, set up in the town square is a huge dance floor with a stage set behind it and a band pumping out 80’s rock.
“Dad and Mom are way in the back… in front of the shop. It’s way too far of a walk not to stop for a few samples first,” Paige says, winking at me and pulling Brandi to the first booth. The banner reads: Aerie’s Wineries - Grafton, Illinois. “Four Adlerschreiens, please.” She turns back to me. “This is one of my favorites!”
By the time we make it to the Watsons’ tents, we’ve had about a hundred samples. A warmth coats my face and crawls slowly up and down my arms. The corners of my mouth ache from smiling. I’m not even quite sure what I’ve been smiling about.
Just below the massive Watson Metalworks sign, there are two tables with tents over them. One table sports a banner for the winery and has the three different wines we produce in a hundred tiny plastic cups. On the other table, there are two sculptures. One is of a dragon poised to attack, and the other is a medieval warrior
The rocker creaks and groans against the guesthouse porch as my foot bobs back and forth. I fall into somewhat of a trance, the beauty of the country settling me.
I have an ice cold beer in my hand, one of several I’ve had while waiting. I try my best to keep my white button-up stain free, which, for me, is a feat in and of itself…beers or not. It’s one of the many things Jack and I have in common.
I’m not often a man who spends a lot of time in front of the mirror, but tonight I had reason. Though it pains me to admit it, I spent twenty-something minutes getting my hair just right—and shamefully scowling back at myself, of course.
But what can I say? I’ve never craved someone like I do Paige, and while I know all the reasons she and I can’t hook up, it just makes the prospect of it that much more appealing.
It makes her untouchable. And I like untouchable. That’s not something a man can even help.
Jack and Teresa have already made their way to the festival. We set everything up earlier, but Jack has to get his pinot noir in to the judges. Paige and Brandi are on something like the second hour of getting ready, but with a few beers and the evening as beautiful as it is, I don’t mind the wait.
We can’t leave until Ethan gets here anyway. Brandi made sure he would be available to DD tonight. Probably a good idea as I can hear the girls whooping it up in the main house with 90’s hip-hop blaring, likely on their second or third glass of wine.
It usually takes five minutes to get into town, but it took us a good twenty this go-around and ten more to find a good parking spot. Plenty of time for the women to fill the SUV with a flurry of rap lines, make-up touch-ups and tipsy selfies… and for us men to sit in the front in awkward silence. If traffic were any indication, the entire town truly does come out for this thing.
Roads are blocked off and people walk the brightly lit downtown area in all directions. Rows of tables with tents and various community entities are in every direction. There’s Whittaker’s serving sliders and craft beer, Brooke’s Books with new and used paperbacks, and Sunshine Cleaners with business cards and smiling faces. Archie’s Sporting Goods has set up a basketball net, and there’s a line of excited kids alongside the table. VFW Post 63 is located beside them, taking donations, and you can’t miss the Club Rapid girls with over-sweetened shots and skimpy clothes.
Then you have all the wineries. They make up the bulk of the tables, and each one offers free samples. The sight instantly gets me excited. My buzz is already well on its way and free alcohol shines like a beacon of continued happiness. In the middle of everything, set up in the town square is a huge dance floor with a stage set behind it and a band pumping out 80’s rock.
“Dad and Mom are way in the back… in front of the shop. It’s way too far of a walk not to stop for a few samples first,” Paige says, winking at me and pulling Brandi to the first booth. The banner reads: Aerie’s Wineries - Grafton, Illinois. “Four Adlerschreiens, please.” She turns back to me. “This is one of my favorites!”
By the time we make it to the Watsons’ tents, we’ve had about a hundred samples. A warmth coats my face and crawls slowly up and down my arms. The corners of my mouth ache from smiling. I’m not even quite sure what I’ve been smiling about.
Just below the massive Watson Metalworks sign, there are two tables with tents over them. One table sports a banner for the winery and has the three different wines we produce in a hundred tiny plastic cups. On the other table, there are two sculptures. One is of a dragon poised to attack, and the other is a medieval warrior
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