Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I decided to stick to the rules and boundaries we had laid out. No more kissing or touching or fucking. None of that. We were going to play out this fake-boyfriend thing, and I was going to figure out what happened to his mom, and that would be the end of the story. Done. Lights out. Curtains up.
The driver slowed down as he pulled up to a set of curling iron gates flanked by emerald-green hedges that looked trimmed down to the tiniest leaf, making them perfect squares. He buzzed the intercom and spoke something to whoever answered. A loud beep followed as the gates began to swing open.
It started to hit me then. Just yesterday, I had been sitting on my living room couch in Atlanta, going over the details for the case, and now we were pulling up to a sprawling villa tucked into the hills of the South of France, surrounded by fields of lavender. If someone told me this was where I’d find myself after randomly bumping into Colton Cooper in a coffee shop, I would laugh in their face and promptly turn around, hoping they found the help they so clearly needed.
“Here we are, sir,” the driver said as it drove around a fountain featuring three angels, the water flowing out of their open hands, their marble wings sculpted to look as if they were in motion at all times. But the fountain only had my attention for a few moments before I looked to the massive villa. With arching doors and windows galore, it looked like something taken directly out of the pages of Architectural Digest, all beiges and blacks and whites, with interesting angles that didn’t disrupt the flow of the house at all, only enhanced it. I was captivated.
We’re staying here? Jesus.
I got out of the car, the driver having already taken my luggage out of the trunk. I thanked him with a generous tip. The gentle scent of the lavender bushes wafted in my direction.
“Merci beaucoup,” he said, smiling as he pocketed the money and got back into the black town car.
I expected Colton to come and greet me, but the first person out the door was his sister Jen. She appeared to be sipping on an Aperol spritz, wearing a teal bikini with a white shawl around her hips, her long hair falling down her shoulders in a silky waterfall. I recognized her after studying pictures of the entire family. She was the closest sibling to Colton, who considered her one of his best friends. They had decided to keep her out of the loop in regards to their arrangement since Colton said she always had trouble keeping secrets, but she certainly wasn’t high on my suspect list.
“Hey there, you must be Eric. Colton’s boyfriend.”
“I am,” I said, holding out a hand but getting it batted away for a hug instead.
“I’m Jen. Great to finally meet you. I can’t believe Colton kept you a secret for this long.”
“I know. I can’t believe it, either,” I said, smiling. “Happy to meet you and to be here. Wow, this is stunning.” I spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.
“Isn’t it? My mom wanted all that lavender planted. Started with a couple bushes and then turned into an entire field.”
It was truly marvelous. Like we had been dropped into the center of a purple ocean, gently swaying in the wind. The rolling hills behind the villa were covered in the bright purple plant, giving the landscape an almost alien quality to it.
Stunning.
“You haven’t even seen the inside yet,” Jen said. “Come, come. Did you bring a bathing suit? We’re all jumping into the heated pool.”
“I did,” I said, grabbing my suitcase and heaving it up the three steps and onto the landing, where I rolled it into the foyer, which was as breathtaking as the outside, if not more. It had a vaulted ceiling with exposed beams that ran perpendicular to a dazzling chandelier hung above a sunken seating area that reminded me of the places in my grandmother’s house that no one went near, much less sat on, for fear of messing up the expensive furniture.
I could hear the sounds of a party through one of the open archways. Music and laughter and casual conversation. I pulled out my phone and texted Colton a quick “I’m here” in case he wasn’t aware.
“Your guys’ bedroom is down this hall. It’s the one closest to the garden, and it’s one of my personal faves.” Jen walked ahead of me down a sun-drenched hallway. A door opened on my left, a couple walking out and nearly bumping into me.
“Oh, hey there,” the man said. It was Archie with his wife, Wendy, both looking like they were ready to jump in the pool, colorful towels thrown over their shoulders. He was someone I had a close eye on. Off instant impressions, Archie was a smiley guy who closely resembled his little brother: perfectly cut and styled blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a jawline that would make any Superman cosplayer extraordinarily jealous.