“Hands shoved in his pockets, Eric scuffed his toes through the green stuff that resembled plush carpeting. During another barbeque to lay the sod more than a year ago, he’d assumed the labor would come to nothing. The grass would wither and die in the Nevada heat. It wasn’t just surviving. It was thriving. He shook his head. “How much work you put in?” “What’s that?” Mike looked up from the charcoal grill on the far side of the brick patio. “The grass.” Mike flashed one of his bright grins. Not...hing shook the guy. He hitched the bag of charcoal under his arm and surveyed the yard with palpable pride. “Enough. It’s my stupid-ass hobby when Leah’s watching crappy television or singing karaoke.” Grass. In Las Vegas. Eric couldn’t imagine the amount of chemicals and water Mike poured into the ground. It had certainly paid off. “Practically a gridiron,” he said. Liam gestured with a bottle of beer from the patio chair he’d immediately claimed after arriving with Sunny and Kavya.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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