Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“No, I'm taking the day off.” Oh, God, he doesn't know anything about the accident or that I missed a week of work because of it. I keep forgetting. It's like my life has become a web of lies and secrets. Keeping track of who knows what, what I can and can't share, is a full-time job in itself.
It’s not like I could tell him Lucas hit me with his car. It was hard enough to admit he cheated on me. This is considerably worse than that, and I know Dad would go after him for it. I can't face that drama right now. Especially since Lucas is dead. An involuntary shudder rolls through me and I wipe a hand over my cheek without thinking. It’s almost a surprise when my fingers come back blood-free. I’ll never forget how warm the splash of blood across my face was before he fell over my legs.
“Not because of me, I hope. I'm fine.” Wow, and I thought I was a lousy liar. Maybe it's the hangover he's clearly fighting against. The fact that he seems to be hungover gives me a little bit of hope, strangely enough. He's not too far gone if his body still reacts this way to too much alcohol.
“Actually, in case you missed it, I brought bags with me last night. I was thinking about spending a little time here. Not officially moving in but staying for a bit, if it’s okay with you?”
It's almost miraculous, the change that comes over him. A grin splits his face, and the worry creases on his forehead become smaller. “You know nothing would make me happier. I’ve wanted you home since the day you left.” He’s not lying. “However, I hope this doesn't mean you're having trouble.”
Funny you should mention that. I came here because I was running away from the man you think widowed you. Yes, that's precisely the sort of conversation we need to have at the breakfast table. Or ever.
Time to break out the excuse I had prepared. “Things weren't going so well with my sublet. I have to start looking for a new place, but in the meantime I figured I’d crash here.”
“Or you could always stay here, with your old man.” He winks before pushing his chair back and going for another cup of coffee. “I wouldn't charge you rent, even when you have that fancy job that pays you so well.”
A fancy job I sincerely hope I still have by the time my life returns to normal.
If my life returns to normal.
He's obviously not going to say anything about Mom, and I haven’t built up enough courage to. That's a can of worms I don't feel like cracking open.
It’ll lead to so many other questions, too. Like why he never told me how Mom actually died. Would he bother to tell me the details now? Or am I still too young to know?
The aggravation these questions stir in my head gets me out of my chair. “I'm going to unpack my things, since I was too busy around here last night to do it then.” I make a big deal about leaning in and giving him a sniff in passing before waving a hand in front of my face. “Maybe you should take a shower, Detective. How are you supposed to sneak up on the bad guys when they can smell you from a mile away?”
“Very nice,” he grumbles wryly while shooing me away. “That's exactly where I planned on going.” Good. Maybe he can soak his head under some cold water for a while and start thinking clearly.
It's better to be away from him, upstairs in my old room with all the certificates and awards on the wall. I always did like getting a gold star, which is probably why I would be drawn to a man like Callum. He goes against everything I'm supposed to be, everything I imagined for my life back when I was a kid getting an award for never missing a day of school. I was always a good girl, except I’m tired of always doing the right thing. I want to rebel against the person I used to be. The one who was never really seen.
For as long as I can remember, before I knew the specifics of his life and work, I sensed an aura of danger around him. Even now, I can't put my finger on it. The particular light in his eyes; the way he carries himself. He could change the temperature in the room with a single look. He has the power with just the lift of an eyebrow or the tip of his head to the side, and everyone around him falls in line. There's something sexy about that. It draws me to him.