Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Whatever.” I grumble. “I’ve been happier in the last three days than probably my whole fucking life, so yuck it up, assholes. I don’t even fucking care, to be honest.”
They look at each other with restrained grins.
“I want you to do me a favor.” I direct toward Booker. I need to get on with the reason I’m here.
“If I can, of course.” He replies.
“That guy. The one that was here the other day, looking for his step-daughter.”
They both look at me with odd expressions, and a chill runs up my spine.
“Yeah, he was just here again, must’ve been twenty minutes ago. Still looking for her. He got a little pushy, if you can believe it, had to remind him who he was talking to.” The look in Booker’s eyes tells me he’s putting the pieces together. “Is the girl you’re with...”
My blood turns cold. “He was here? Now, today?” I point to the ground, my chest tight, my hands turning to fists.
“Yeah, like I said, you just missed him. He’s still looking for her, says she’s suicidal, is off her meds...keeps changing his story. I told him I couldn’t do much. He seems to think she’s here though. It all feels hinky, you ask me. If she really was an in-danger person, he would file a missing person’s report back in his own town. Have some physician or psychiatric orders—”
“Fuck. Where was he going, do you know?”
Marshall shrugs. “No. Didn’t say. Just headed out the front door saying he would do some looking around himself...”
I half bolt, leaving them launching questions from behind, but I’m already out the front door and headed to Duffy’s.
11
Astrid
AS I SIT IN DUFFY’S chatting with Beverly, out of the corner of my eye, I see the ponytail guy from the other day, hanging around by the back door to the bar.
When he sees me look his way, he slinks back a bit, and I do my best to ignore him but I can tell he’s watching me. Not that it matters, I intend to stay right here with Beverly until Mathias gets back, then I doubt he’ll come anywhere near me.
“That’s wild. You should write a romance book.” Beverly smiles, twirling her glass of ice water on the table as I wipe my mouth with the white paper napkin and swallow the last bite of the burger.
I hold my fingers over my mouth as I reply knowing there are still bits of food floating around in my mouth. “Yeah, crazy girl tries to shoot mountain man, then falls in love instead. It’s a catchy title, right?” I smile, lifting my glass with ice and coke to my lips and letting the sweet, cool liquid wash down the last bits of my lunch.
“I’d buy it.” She giggles as I press a hand to my belly and groan.
“I think it’s a boy.” I kid, but as soon as the words are off my lips, I shiver with the knowledge that quite possibly, with all the jizz Mathias has deposited into me since we met, it’s not impossible.
I could be pregnant.
The realization stuns me into silence, wondering if I’ve been so caught up in this fantasy with Mathias, I honestly haven’t considered the consequences of my irresponsible actions with a man I barely know.
Was I so desperate to escape the sorrow and stress of my life that I fell into the first opportunity that opened for me?
The soreness between my legs is another reminder of how reckless I’ve been. Have I been so careless because I want to pretend I don’t have major issues to deal with in my real life? Issues that aren’t going to go away by hiding in the woods, or by shacking up with a growly mountain man who has hypnotized me with orgasms and wooed me with an unrealistic sense of safety.
When I woke up this morning, he wasn’t in bed. I heard sounds from outside and put on his t-shirt which hung almost to my knees and went to see what he was doing. Coffee was waiting in the kitchen with a note under a white mug that said, “I love you, my sprite. I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You’re too pretty when you sleep. Even when you snore.”
I poured myself a cup and wandered to the windows of the great room and saw him by the side of a shed swinging an ax over his head, lodging it in a piece of wood which immediate splintered into two.
He was wearing only his jeans. The morning sun streaming through the trees and shining on his sweat covered skin. His muscles rippled and worked as he split another log. And another. And another, mesmerizing me.
He looked so content. The effort on his face matched with a look of purpose and peace and I hope I can find something that feels like that someday myself.