Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Before I had a chance to reply, she beat me to it. “Ignore me—the day is already starting off badly.”
“That’s okay. Are you free for lunch today?”
“No, sorry. I’ve got to run some reports for my dad and start on the marketing plan for spring.”
Smiling, I decided to go in for the kill. “Okay, well, I think I’m going to head on out to Lighthouse Island. Maybe I can catch a glimpse of Ruby, or whoever it is who’s dropping off the stories.”
“It can’t be Ruby, Brax. Think about it. She works every day at the grill. There’s no way she could leave in the middle of the day and take the ferry over to Lighthouse Island.”
“Maybe she has someone else doing it for her. I’m going to go stake it out.”
I could hear rustling before Harlee finally spoke. “You know what, my dad just sent me an email. He doesn’t need the reports until next week, so it turns out I’m free all day. Sutton doesn’t need me at the store until later this afternoon, and I can work on the marketing plan then. It’s super slow this time of year anyway.”
This was going to be too freaking easy. “Great, I’ll stop by and pick you up in thirty minutes, if not sooner.”
“Wait—what?”
I hit End and counted.
“One, two, three…”
When my phone rang with Harlee’s number, I hit Ignore. “You can run, Harlee Tilson, but you can’t hide.”
Harlee flung open her door and stared at me with a surprised expression on her face. I’d made it to her house in fifteen minutes.
I plastered on a huge smile. “Good morning. Are you ready?”
She blinked a few times as I pushed past her into the house. It was strange that I’d never been in her house before. She’d been in mine. The night we’d slept together.
Harlee’s house was a charming three-bedroom, Nantucket-style home. It was only a block away from the waterfront. The inside was a typical New England cottage built in the early 1930s.
“I’ve never seen your place,” I said, glancing around.
She shut the door and slowly shook her head.
When you walked into the house, there was a small area that had a coatrack right at the door and a large, oversized chair at the window. Next to it was a small bookcase loaded with books. Past the foyer, the space opened immediately into a cozy living room on the left, and a dining room on the right. A few family pictures were placed about the rooms, as well as some paintings and moose decorations sprinkled in. I’d forgotten that Harlee had a thing for moose. The color scheme was mostly white, with splashes of light blue here and there courtesy of pillows or blankets. Even her curtains were white, and they tied onto the rods.
The whole place had a very beachy-type feel. Original hardwood floors added to the charm of the house. When I glanced back into the living room, I saw the original wood-burning fireplace—or at least it looked to be original.
“This place is really cute, Harlee. I like it. Is that the kitchen?” I asked as I headed toward it.
“Um, yeah. Please, feel free to show yourself around, Brax,” she stated dryly.
The kitchen was actually a good-sized space. An island sat in the middle, and the cabinets on the lower section were painted a light blue while the uppers were white.
“I like the beadboard on the cabinets here.” I pointed to the island.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me. “You didn’t really come here for a house tour, did you?”
I glanced over my shoulder at her and winked. “If you’re offering, I’d love a tour.”
She let out a long, loud exhale. “Fine. This is the kitchen, you saw the living room and the dining room. This way is the guest bedroom.” I followed her down a small hall. “Bathroom here. And bedroom here.”
Nodding, I stepped into the guest room. “Nice. It’s huge. I really didn’t think it would be this big. How many bedrooms do you have?”
“Two down here, and I converted the attic into my office.”
“Nice. Where’s your room?”
Her cheeks turned pink. “You don’t need to see my bedroom, Brax.”
“I may not need to see it, but I want to.”
Heading back down the hall, I ignored her when she told me to stop as I opened the door at the end of the hallway.
A king-size antique bedframe and bed sat in the middle of the room. A matching antique dresser was on the far wall, and two small bedside tables, which also appeared to be antique, sat on either side of the massive bed. I glanced around and noticed the beadboard on the ceiling and board-and-batten. The latter was painted the same blue that was in the kitchen, while the upper half of the walls were white.