Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Jabbing the correct button on the console, he opened the line.
“I found him!” she rushed out, unleashing a tide of relief inside Conrad. “I crested a hill, and there he was. Near the old business center. I bet he was searching for me.” Her tone hardened. “I will find the woman who did this, and I will do things. Don’t think I won’t. I recorded her on the security feed. She’s as good as mine.”
Wrong. As good as mine. “I want a look at that camera feed. While I’m there, I’ll change the locks on your doors. If I leave without losing my mind,” he grumbled, “it’ll be a miracle.” He hung up before he said anything else he shouldn’t, not giving her a chance to respond.
Once in town, he stopped at a hardware store to buy everything he needed. When he reached the cottage, he parked beside Beau’s truck and emerged. Jane stepped on the porch, a tray of food in hand. She wore a white dress with multi-colored polka dots. Never had she looked lovelier.
Punch. His inner world spun. Suddenly, the scorching heat didn’t bother him. Conrad inhaled deep, drinking in all things Jane. Honeysuckle and roses. Magnolia and gardenia. Home.
In the dictionary of his life, a mental picture of this moment would forever hang alongside the words peace and joy.
Desperate to get closer to her, he carried his bag of supplies to the porch.
“I made snacks,” she said with her customary sunny smile. “Hungry? Thirsty?”
He couldn’t tear his gaze away. “Very much so,” he muttered.
Pink circles bloomed over the rise of her cheeks as they stared at each other. For Conrad, nothing else existed. Until Beau exited the house, a man on a mission.
The vet stopped when he noticed the bag filled with goodies from Pan Out Hardware hanging from Conrad’s arm. “Locks?”
“Among other things.”
“Exactly what I was on my way to get.” The other man redistributed the bag to his own grip. “I’m working on the windows in the primary bedroom.” He glanced between Conrad and Jane, then rolled his eyes, grabbed a few items from the tray, and stepped inside, calling, “Come help when you escape the Ladling Vortex.”
The exchange struck Conrad as genuine and friendly. His admiration for the guy reached new heights.
“Pay him no mind,” Jane said with a chiding tone. “As if anyone can escape my clutches.”
He snorted, charmed all over again, and looked over the tray. Glasses of iced tea, a plate of finger sandwiches cut exactly like those she’d gobbled up at Hotchkins’s memorial, a bowl filled with what appeared to be sugar-glazed scones, a small jar of black jam and an even smaller jar of whipped cream. Plus napkins and plates. A spread worthy of a king.
“Cucumber and herbed cream cheese sandwiches, honey butter scones, blueberry lemon jam and vanilla whipped cream. I made everything myself.” She placed the tray on a small table between the rockers, then sat gracefully and motioned to the other chair. “Well, I didn’t churn the butter or anything like that. Anyway. If you hate something, I just want you to know that means your taste buds are dead. Every dish is amazing and definitely the best in the world probably.”
She’d made all this herself? Dazed, he strode over and eased down. A slight tremor plagued his hand as he accepted a glass of tea. Very sweet tea, he realized after the first sip. Wow. Instant sugar high.
She put together a plate and passed it his way with a soft smile. “Thank you for rushing over to help me. I appreciate you greatly.”
He…didn’t know what to say. Had anyone ever taken such time and effort to appreciate him for something he’d done? Overcome by an emotion he couldn’t name, he turned his attention to the food. Oh wow. Every bite proved better than the last, his taste buds exploding with a wealth of fresh flavors.
“This is amazing, Jane.”
“Well, you’re a pretty amazing man,” she replied in a gentle tone.
The compliment shot straight to his head. They peered at each other again, each of them smiling, until the sound of metal clanging against metal pierced the air.
“Rolex, you little—” Beau’s voice traveled from an open window upstairs.
Jane pressed a palm over her heart. “He’s such a perfect, playful cat.”
Perfect wasn’t exactly the word Conrad would use to describe the murderous mini-beast. “I better go help.”
“Of course. I’ll show you the way.” All grace and elegance, Jane flowed to her feet and led him inside.
Cool air enveloped him. He wanted to look around, but he also had zero desire to glance away from Jane. Her hips swayed as they made their way up the creaking stairs and entered a small, cluttered bedroom. What the… So. Many. Hats. Pink and purple everywhere. The curtains. The quilt covering the bed. He swallowed. He even spotted a pink and purple cushion under a mountain of clothes.