Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Hi,” I said.
She looked over, startled. “Hi.”
“Let me help.” I flagged down the bartender, hoping he would remember I was a cop.
He did, and he arrived a moment later, turning me into a minor hero of sorts.
The girl smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Can I have two bottles of Bud, please?”
The bartender nodded, grabbed the bottles, flipped off the caps, and set them down.
“Thanks!” The girl’s friend toasted me with her beer.
I nodded politely. “Will you let me get it?” I asked my mystery woman.
She picked up her bottle without answering. “I saw you at the grocery store.”
I smiled. “I think you were checking me out.”
She gasped in mock horror. “I was not.”
“I was checking you out,” I said.
She blushed. “You must be new around here. I haven’t seen you before.”
“Jason White. I’m the new detective in town.”
“Oh.” She sounded surprised. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a week,” I said. “I could use someone to show me around.”
“Oh.” She exhaled softly, lowering her lashes.
“I’m Ava.” The woman’s friend stuck her hand out.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said before turning back to the sexy shopper.
“I’m Lindsey,” she said. “Lindsey Parker. I work at the salon.”
“Did you do my wife’s hair?” Dillon came up behind me.
Lindsey’s eyes shifted away from mine briefly to size up Dillon. He was bigger than me, taller and broader in the chest. But I was leaner, sculpted where Dillon was intimidating.
“Is your wife Macy?” Ava guessed.
“That’s right,” Dillon said.
“Yeah,” Ava laughed, “Lindsey did her hair.”
“It looks great,” Dillon said. “Macy loves it.”
“I saw your family at Walmart,” Lindsey said. “Your children are beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Dillon said awkwardly. “I think I’m gonna take off.” He set his empty mug down on the bar. “It was nice meeting you, Lindsey. Ava.”
They waited until Dillon had disappeared to talk about him.
“Dillon used to be a hermit,” Ava said conspiratorially.
Lindsey shifted uncomfortably.
“He’s one of my best friends,” I said, rescuing Lindsey again. “We were on the force together in Nashville.”
“You’re from Nashville?” Lindsey asked.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“What brought you out here?” She was clearly interested.
“Fresh air,” I said. “I got tired of the big city.”
“I was born right here in Singer’s Ridge,” Lindsey said.
“You look like you’d be right at home in Nashville,” I said, “or even New York.”
“What, this old thing?” She shimmied playfully, making the dress dance across her skin.
“No one else is wearing a dress.” I fought the urge to reach out and touch the fabric. I could just imagine how smooth it would be under my fingertips, how gently it would trace her curves.
“If I’m gonna go out for the night”—she tossed a glance at her friend— “I might as well dress up.”
“Okay, I know when I’m not wanted.” Ava took a final swallow of her bottle and set it down. “You two have fun.”
“You don’t have to leave.” Lindsey clung to her friend’s arm, as if being abandoned to the sea.
“I have to open the salon in the morning.” Ava wrapped Lindsey up in a hug. “It was good to meet you,” she said to me.
“Good to meet you too,” I said with a smile.
As Ava moved toward the door, I pointed at an open table in the corner. “Would you like to sit down?”
Lindsey studied me for a moment, deciding whether I was worth the risk. “I could sit,” she finally said.
We worked our way past the dancers and sat. Her hair was loose and fell across her shoulder. She brushed it away with a practiced hand. I wondered what it would be like to brush my own fingers through her hair, to grab fistfuls as I pumped into her from behind. I threw the image off and tried to focus on what she was saying.
“What made you choose Singer’s Ridge?” she asked.
“Dillon.” I gestured toward the door. “I remembered he moved here a few years ago.”
She took a sip and looked around, as if searching for something to say.
“So, you’re a hairdresser,” I began.
She nodded.
“What else should I know about you?”
“I just moved into a cabin in the mountains,” she replied.
“Really?” I leaned forward. “How do you like it?”
“Oh, I love it. It’s so quiet and peaceful.”
“I’m looking to buy a cabin too. I have cash to pay, I’m just waiting for the renter to move out.”
Her face went from flirty to closed off in a matter of seconds. Her eyes lit with a fire that wasn’t passion but anger. I could almost see steam rising from her forehead.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“That’s my cabin,” she said through perfect teeth. “Off of Miller Road?”
I nodded.
“I’m the renter,” she snapped. “I was told it would be a rent-to-own situation and that I would have sole rights to purchase it a year from now.”
The woman was hot, but I was not about to give up my dream home for her. “It was in the real estate listings.”