Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
The idea came as I was drying off after my shower.
It was perfect. More than enough room to get some distance but enough opportunity to ease me back into the real world…if that could be considered the real world. But it was better than hiding up here in the penthouse.
I made all the arrangements with a single phone call, then packed two suitcases…and one guitar—my first acoustic. Just in case.
After I carried it all downstairs, I walked out onto the deck to see Zoe pacing back and forth, actively arguing with someone on her phone. Her feet were bare.
“You can’t rush it, and don’t even start with me about deadlines. You can push it and get shit, or you can wait and get gold. Either way, if you don’t ease up off his neck, you’re going to suffocate him.” She saw me and stilled. “They’re the highest-grossing rock band in the world, and have been for the last two years, Harvey. Trust me, the anticipation of a new album is only going to work in their favor.” She held my gaze as she battled with him.
Harvey. She was having it out with Harvey because I wouldn’t pick up my phone. She was taking his hits for me. Shit, my chest was tight and heavy again. I didn’t want to like her, and I definitely didn’t want whatever this melty feeling was in the pit of my stomach.
“Go ahead and call Ben. He’s going to say the same thing. You need to give Nixon some space, or I’m going to accidentally throw his phone in the dishwasher.” She hung up.
My eyebrows rose. On a smoking-hot scale of one to ten, that was an eleven. Yeah, we had to go. Now. Right now.
“Pack your shit,” I said.
Her jaw dropped. “Wait…what?”
“Pack. Your. Shit.” A corner of my mouth lifted in an irrepressible smile.
“You’re seriously going to fire me after I just went toe-to-toe with one of the best producers in the world for you?” Her voice pitched to a near shriek, but a gust of wind blew her hair across her face, and she started sputtering.
“Who said anything about you being fired?”
She swiped her hair to the side, revealing a pair of narrowed eyes.
“I’m over Seattle. I’m leaving, and you have to follow me wherever I go, right? Or things don’t work out with whatever deal you have with Ben.” Oh, this was fun.
“Right,” she said slowly as her eyes narrowed.
“Good. Then get packed, Zoe Shannon, because you’re taking me home.” I grinned as I walked back into the apartment. “Not only that, but I’ve managed to make all the arrangements without you, and it only took eight minutes.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “The car will be here in half an hour to take us to the airport.”
“We’re going to Tacoma?” she called out as she came after me, her feet soft on the floor.
“Tacoma?” I turned back so abruptly she almost ran into me, but I caught her shoulders. They were small but strong, just like the rest of her. “We’re not going to my hometown. We’re going to yours.”
Her face drained of color.
4
ZOE
He wasn’t kidding. The entire flight and even part of the drive in from Gunnison, Colorado, I thought he’d start laughing that I fell for his horrid joke and demand to go back to Seattle.
But no, he was serious. It was now a little after five p.m., and we’d just passed the sign that read Legacy, Colorado, Alt. 9,689 ft. We were as proud of our altitude as we were of the mountains that made it possible. I took a deep breath and savored the slight burn in my lungs that came from the lack of oxygen. God, I’d missed home.
“You’re going to have to tell me where to turn,” he said from behind the wheel of the rental car—a black Range Rover that had magically been waiting at the airport. It was the first time I’d ever seen him drive himself…well, anywhere.
“I thought you said you booked a house?” Pure sugar saturated my tone.
“I know where we’re staying. It’s called the McClaren Ranch.”
My eyes widened. The McClaren Ranch was one of the only estates that hadn’t burned when a wildfire decimated our little town ten years ago. The place had to be a hundred years old, and it was huge.
“Well, are you going to say anything?” He glanced over at me.
I quickly jerked my gaze away. “Watch where you’re going or you’ll fall off the mountain.”
“There are buildings on both sides of the street.” He rolled his eyes.
“Whatever. And you don’t have to turn to get to the McClaren place. You go straight up—”
“We’re stopping at your parents.” He braked for the only red light in town.
My stomach lurched.
“We’re what?” This wasn’t happening. This was all a really bad dream I’d wake up from, right? We’d still be in Seattle, and I would not be faced with introducing Nixon-freaking-Winters to my mother.