Stolen Heart Read online Ivy Layne (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend #1)

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Series by Ivy Layne
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
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My hands twisted in my lap, fingers twined together so tightly my knuckles were white. I didn’t know how to answer Griffen, so I fell back on my usual—dealing with the practical. “You weren’t planning to spend the night in town, were you?”

Griffen reached up to rub the back of his neck as he shook his head. “I thought I’d be back on the road by now. Thought I’d put this place behind me for good.”

I had nothing to say to that. We’d all thought a lot of things that weren’t going to happen.

“Do you want to go to Heartstone?” Griffen’s face closed down, cheeks tight, jaw clenched. So that was a No on the house. “The Inn?” A sharp shake of his head.

Of course, he wouldn’t want to go to the Inn. That was Royal and Tenn’s domain. They hadn’t exactly welcomed him home. Not that I could blame them. Griffen and I weren’t the only ones screwed by Prentice’s will. Royal and Tenn had put everything they had into making the Inn at Sawyers Bend a success and Prentice had snatched it out from under them.

If Heartstone and the Inn were out, Griffen didn’t have many options. We didn’t have any chain hotels in town. They were all back in Asheville. Griffen needed a meal and sleep, not an hour-long drive through the mountains.

“You can stay at my place, if you want,” I offered, instantly regretting the impulsive gesture. Backtracking, I said, “It’s only one bedroom, but the couch is comfortable—”

“Banishing me to the couch already? We’ve only been married for a few hours.”

My heart stuttered. He was kidding, right?

Except Harvey said it had to be real. Holy crap, did Griffen think—?

Were we supposed to—

Tonight?

I felt the blood drain from my face. Cold sweat sprang up between my shoulder blades as a faint grin spread across Griffen’s mouth.

He reached out to bop the tip of my nose before trailing his index finger down my cheek, spreading heat along my frozen skin everywhere he touched. Across my lips, along the line of my jaw, down my neck until he reached my collarbone, leaving me shivering and aroused—and very, very confused.

Chapter Eight

Griffen

I should have felt bad for teasing Hope. I did, kind of. But then I trailed my finger over her soft skin, felt her shiver from my touch, and I didn’t feel bad anymore.

I felt all sorts of other things for Hope Daniels. Things I’d never expected.

No, not Hope Daniels. Hope Sawyer. She was Hope Fucking Sawyer now.

And she was mine.

In a million years, I never would have imagined the satisfaction I got from that thought.

Hope was mine.

Until she’d walked into my office, I’d thought I never wanted to see her again. Thought I hated her. A part of me did. I’d never forget standing in my father’s office, seeing Hope’s anguished, guilty eyes as I lost my fiancée, my home, my family, my legacy. She’d been the only one I told, the only one who knew. Like a fool, I’d thought I could trust her.

She’d betrayed me once. Why was I trusting her now?

Arguments swirled in my head. Reasons why Hope was the only one I could trust. Reasons I should boot her out of my car and take off.

My gut had one resounding answer. Hope. Just that. Hope. Like I usually did, I was following my gut. My gut and the silk of her skin under my touch.

After the day from hell, I was pathetically grateful she’d offered to put me up at her place. I half-expected to hear that she still lived with Edgar. It didn’t seem like he’d let her out from under his thumb since I’d been gone.

Hope interrupted my thoughts. “Turn right after the sandwich shop. The stairs to my place are behind the building, next to my parking spot.”

“You live in town?” The only places in town were small apartments tucked over the local businesses. Her uncle was wealthy. She was a professional. Surely, she could do better than a place over the sandwich shop.

I grabbed my emergency bag out of my trunk and followed Hope up a set of sturdy wooden stairs to a small landing that overlooked the back alley where I’d parked.

She pulled out her keys, opened the door, and we stepped into a kaleidoscope of color.

I stopped just inside the doorway, too stunned to move. Given those suits, I’d expected beige. Maybe black and white.

I’d never imagined anything like this. The building was old and even the second floor had high ceilings with ornate crown moldings. Hope had painted the walls a deep, burnished gold. The tall windows overlooking Main Street were framed by thick, bottle-green velvet curtains. The combination reminded me of late summer in the mountains, the heavy sunlight and vibrant trees. I almost imagined I could hear the forest around me. The effect was lush. Inviting. Sensual.


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