Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
He goes on, “The truth is I haven’t seen Carter in five years. I was hoping to catch him here before he disappeared again.”
“Five years?”
“He lives on the road most of the time. The only reason I knew he was here is because he posted something about you on his fan groups. Said he found the perfect woman and intended to steal her away from her white-picket prison for a lifetime of adventures.”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
“He even included a photo of your house. I did a reverse image search and found out the home was recently listed for sale. So here I am.”
What a fucking nutjob. “He had no right to share pictures of my home.”
“Like I said, Carter marches to his own beat. Some say it’s part of his genius.”
Bullshit! “What do you think?”
“I think that brothers, no matter how estranged, should not bad-mouth each other. Especially to the other’s girlfriend.”
Honorable, but… “I’m not his girlfriend,” I say emphatically.
“No?”
“I just met him a couple of weeks ago in Jamaica. He took me along to check out a few locations for some film he’s planning. Then he texted last week—said he was going to be in town and that we should meet up for drinks.” I pause, realizing how ridiculous the next part will sound. “Then he decided to invite himself over, crash on my couch, go shopping with my money, and borrow my car before trashing it.”
“Do you know where he went?” Logan asks. “I really need to find him.”
I tell Logan about Carter mentioning the Philippines and buying a two-thousand-dollar plane ticket. “But he also said his friend Bob was in the hospital.”
Logan’s back goes rigid. “Bob? Bobsled Bob?”
Bobsled Bob? “I don’t know. Carter just said ‘Bob had a heart attack.’” I show Logan the text.
He looks like he’s been hit by a sledgehammer.
“Do you know him?” I ask.
“Bob is—was our best friend growing up. He’s the only one who’s really stayed involved with Carter after he and I fell out.” Logan sets down his mug and stands. “I gotta go.”
“Are you going to the hospital? Do you think Carter’ll be there now?” I want him to pay me back, every last cent. And the fucker owes me an apology.
“I really don’t know.” Logan starts heading for the door.
“If he is, I…I…” I want to come along and chop some nuts, but the devastation on Logan’s face holds me back. “If he is there, tell him I wish him well,” I lie. Really, I’m wishing Logan well.
“That’s really kind of you. Not everyone shows Carter empathy like that.”
I shrug.
Logan adds, “If for whatever reason he shows up here, and I haven’t found him yet, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure. Why not?” I sigh.
“Tell him our mother is dying. She’s been asking for him and doesn’t have much time left. A few weeks at most.”
My stomach falls to the floor. I’ve only known this man for a handful of minutes, but I feel his pain.
Wait. Carter told me his mom was already dead. The killer squirrel story. So Carter is a liar, too? I’m no longer surprised.
“I’ll tell him,” I say.
Logan leaves my house, and I can’t stop myself from watching him go. He seems so different than Carter—selfless, mature, serious. Yet, at the same time, he has a soft spot in his heart for his crazy-ass brother.
He’s also fucking hot. And drives a hundred-thousand-dollar car? Wow, that’s the same Mercedes Dick drives. But newer.
Logan suddenly turns and stares with the sort of intensity only a serious man exudes. “You’re a good woman, Mila. I can see why my brother wanted to kidnap you.”
He leaves and gets into his car.
Kidnap me? Dear God, I hope he was kidding. I shake it off and go get ready. Guess I’ll be spending my day getting an estimate for my car.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I don’t hear from either brother the next week, but on Friday, there’s a check waiting in my mailbox. It’s for ten thousand dollars and includes a note from Logan.
Mila,
It was a pleasure meeting you the other day. If this doesn’t cover the damage, let me know.
Logan
He’s left his number at the bottom.
I go to my kitchen, pour a tall glass of white wine, pop a Lean Cuisine in the microwave, and grab my cell to call Logan.
“Hello?” his deep voice says, feeling surprisingly good bouncing around inside my eardrum.
“Hey, Logan. It’s Mila. I got your check.”
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s way too much money.” I explain that Carter only spent a few hundred at the store. Add in the plane ticket and repair estimate for my car, we’re only talking five thousand. “I really can’t take the rest of it. And honestly, I still think Carter should pay. It was his doing.”
“He’ll never pay you back, Mila. Just take the money,” he says firmly. “I’ll collect from him some other way.”