Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“You’re right. He hasn’t moved a muscle.” She grins.
Her prediction proves true as we walk back into the house. Dudley is right where we left him.
“Find the cat yet?” he asks, perturbed.
“We found some clues,” May chirps.
“How very Scooby Doo of you, young lady,” he retorts dryly.
I don’t like his tone. Stepping up to him, I take satisfaction in the way he cringes slightly back from me. “Hey, starched shirt, you talk to me. Not her. Where were you when the cat disappeared?”
His chin trembles for a second before he says, “I was working on the third floor, directing the maid on how to correctly unfurl Mrs. Farrol’s brand new llama-hair rugs.”
“Which maid?”
“That unfairly beautiful Cece?” May pipes up.
Confused, I glance at her. Cece is nothing compared to May. If anything is unfair, it’s the way I’m not currently on top of May with her moaning my name.
“Yes. We were both upstairs, as I said.”
I focus on the butler, if only to get this over with so I can talk to May. “Where was Lauren?”
Dudley rolls his eyes. “In the garden, most likely. Or perhaps sitting at an open window in a sad attempt to hide the smell of her preferred vintage. Blue gorilla cheese, I believe, is her particular favorite.”
“And you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary that day?” I ask.
“No.”
“And no one visited the house that you know of?”
“No.” He shoots a glance at Mousey. “Other than that mongrel, of course. Hopefully, Mrs. Farrol will have her put down now that–”
“Don’t you dare!” May yelps, anger and fear in her tone.
He gives her a snide look. “I’m simply saying that without His Royal High–”
Gripping his black jacket, I lift him off the floor and slam him against the wall. “I suggest you stop simply saying or Fitzy won’t be the only missing person from this estate.” I glare at him.
He sputters, his feet bumping against the wall as he flails pathetically.
“Now apologize to Ms. Levi.”
“I-I apologize,” he heaves out, his voice two octaves higher.
“And to Mousey!” May adds, her warmth at my elbow.
“But I–”
I press him harder against the wall. “Did she fucking stutter?”
He wheezes, “I’m sorry, M-m-mousey.”
“Better.” I drop him, and he crumples to the floor at my feet.
“We’ll be in touch.” I stride to the front door and open it for May.
She hurries out, a big smile on her beautiful face and Mousey at her heels.
10
MAY
Ican't contain the joy that fills my heart and the smile that brightens my face. No one has ever stood up for me. If I wasn’t completely smitten with Carson before, I surely would be now. I didn’t know aggression could be a turn-on.
“You good?” Carson asks when the car rolls to a stop outside the tall stone wall that wraps around the entire estate.
“Yes.” I keep it short. To prevent myself from fidgeting like a dorkball, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
It was only a kiss. I mean, people kiss all the time. I shouldn’t be obsessing over what it means. Carson reaches over, his hand landing on my thigh. His touch is not helping my situation. My mind is racing with all sorts of thoughts.
“You’d tell me otherwise?”
“I think?” I don’t want to lie. I’m not sure I would admit it.
“I’ll take that for now.” Before letting it go, he gives my leg a squeeze.
The touch lingers on me, just as the kiss does. It’s not until Carson opens my door that I realize I got lost in a daze. One of those that happens when you’re crushing hard on someone. Not that I’ve ever had this happen before. It's how people act in movies and books. I thought it was hyped up, but nope. That shit is real.
“Get it together.” Mousey hops over me and exits the car. I grab Carson's hand, not bothering to respond to Miss Sassypants. She’s gotten me into enough trouble today.
“How are you sure this is the spot?” I ask, trying to focus on something besides thinking about how his mouth felt on mine.
“This is kind of what I do,” he says, his dark eyes glinting as he looks at me so directly my heart trips over itself. That’s the perfect word for him–direct. No wondering what he’s thinking or obsessing over the millions of ways I misread the situation or spoke out of turn. With Carson, I know right where I stand, and God what a relief it is. I feel lighter, like just being with him has stripped away some of the weight I always feel when trying to interact with other people.
“Right,” I say, shaking my head. “Stupid question.” Focus, May. You have a job to do, I remind myself. There’s a cat in danger.
“Girrrrl. That must have been some kiss. Knocked the sense right out of you,” Mousey tosses out as she heads over to the perimeter of the wall.