Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I dipped in for a quick kiss before rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom. "Be out in a sec. Then we'll go get him filled up on waffles."
Chapter Twenty-One
TENN
Waffles consumed, with a minimum of syrup in his hair, August escaped the adults to join Nicky with Savannah, saying only that he and his friend had 'plans.' Neither of us asked what those plans might be. As long as they didn't burn the house down, I didn't want to know.
Scarlett turned to me, her face flat. She was going to try to put distance between us. I felt it coming. I got there first. "I have some work I have to catch up on. Are you good?"
She stared at me, mouth slightly agape, momentarily speechless. I resisted the urge to grin. Did she think I was going to grab her and drag her into the closest room to have my way with her?
When I put it like that, it sounded like a great idea… But Scarlett was clever, and she was used to having the upper hand. I wasn't going to win her over with a power struggle. I'm pretty clever myself, and I'm definitely used to having the upper hand.
There's something I have that Scarlett hadn't factored in. Patience. She was going to come to me. She just didn't know it yet.
"Uh, yeah, I, um, still have to finish cataloging the guest wing."
"Sounds good. Keep the panic button in your pocket just in case." Before she could flee, I dipped my head and brushed a casual kiss across her parted lips, my tongue stroking hers for the briefest second before I pulled away. "I'll find you later. Maybe we can have another picnic and a swim."
I left without waiting for a response. I took my laptop to Griffen's office where Royal found me an hour later, and we hashed out details on a few outstanding things at the Inn. West still wanted me to work from the Manor for a few more days. So far, no leads on Vanessa's killer. I wanted her killer found, but if this was the same person who'd shot our father, I wasn't holding out much hope.
I didn't let myself check the hacked camera on Scarlett's tablet. If I did, I'd never get any work done. Besides, spying on Scarlett to make sure she wasn't stealing from us felt a lot less creepy than perving over her via a camera she didn't know was turned on. I was determined, not a creeper.
I did check the camera once, just before I closed my laptop for the day. It was almost lunchtime. Sundays we were on our own for lunch, but I thought we could manage a few sandwiches by the pool. Scarlett was exactly where she'd said she'd be: in the guest wing, cataloging a room.
When I got up there, she was photographing a fragile-looking vase, painted with royal blue fruits and leaves. After a quick glance at me and a flash of a relieved smile when she realized I wasn't Bryce, she went back to her task. "This should be on a shelf in the library," she said absently as she typed on the tablet. "Or behind glass. Somewhere it won't get bumped into."
"We'll take it downstairs when you're finished," I agreed. I didn't know what was valuable about the vase, but in this, I trusted her judgment.
Scarlett clicked off the tablet. Throwing a glance around the room, she said, "Are all the rooms on this side connected?"
When we were kids, we'd played hide and seek up here and I knew exactly what she meant. "Not all of them, just this section. It gives us flexibility if a larger family comes to visit. Each room can be a suite unto itself, or the doors can be open between, turning it into more of an apartment."
"Did you used to have a lot of visitors?"
"Prentice didn't like guests much. Aunt Ophelia and Bryce came sometimes. But my grandfather used to tell me stories about house parties that would go on for weeks."
"Sounds like fun," Scarlett said, following me out of the room and down the hall. "Especially if someone else is doing all of the cooking and cleaning."
I couldn't argue that. Having all my siblings back under Heartstone’s roof should have felt like a house party. It might have if we'd had different childhoods. Or a different father. If we trusted each other. Hell, just knowing each other better than casual acquaintances would help.
If we could be like Nicky and August, life would be a house party. Despite their age difference, they were already joined at the hip. The second we opened the door to Savannah's call of welcome, they came at us in a rush, babbling a mile a minute.
"One sec," I said to the boys, holding up a finger until they reluctantly stopped talking. Raising my chin at Savannah in greeting I asked, "They eat yet?"