Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“That was the plan.” She smiled up at me. “I’m gonna go back to the hotel and freshen up, though, before I head to your place.”
“All right. Don’t take too long. I hate wasting precious time when you’re here. You should’ve just stayed at my apartment.”
All I wanted right now was to break every friend-zone rule.
“I’ll see you in about an hour?” she said.
“Sounds good, baby.”
Baby. Once again, I couldn’t help myself. But I wasn’t even sorry. Maybe I was undoing whatever progress we’d made since the friendship declaration, but my feelings for this woman were just as strong as they’d always been. And I couldn’t deny it. I wouldn’t deny it.
On the way back home, I detoured toward the grocery store to pick up some stuff to make for dinner. I’d changed Patrick on the bed of my truck before we left the farmers’ market, so he’d be good to go for a little bit.
I felt a bit giddy, knowing I’d get to spend time with February this evening. My mind raced as I thought about what to make for dinner. I peeked into the backseat at my son, the happiest I’d been in a while, knowing the woman who still had my heart was nearby.
The moment my eyes returned to the road, I saw it veering toward us.
And then? Everything went dark.
CHAPTER 38
* * *
February
What the heck is taking him so long? I’d been sitting in my rental car in Brock’s driveway for almost half an hour now. When I’d arrived, the only one home was Oak, and he wouldn’t stop barking, so I went back to wait in the car. I checked my watch for what must have been the tenth time. It had been just about four o’clock when Brock said he’d meet me here in an hour. And it was currently five minutes to six. Turns out I’d taken almost ninety minutes at the hotel to get ready—shaving my legs and doing a little grooming touch up other places. You know, to have dinner with a man who was only a friend, and I wasn’t planning to sleep with. That thought made my eyes roll.
Maybe Brock had underestimated how much time stopping at the store would take him. Everything probably took twice as long with a baby in tow. I hesitated to call him in case he was driving, but after another half hour went by, I finally gave in and dialed.
As the phone rang, a feeling I didn’t like settled in the pit of my stomach. The call went to voicemail. I attempted to talk myself down.
He’s probably driving from the supermarket and doesn’t want to answer with the baby in the car.
Maybe he ran into one of his brothers and they got to talking.
Did he say an hour? Maybe I misheard and he said two.
Though after fifteen more minutes passed, calm went out the window. I got out of the car and went into the bar.
A few older gentlemen were sitting around, and a guy I’d never seen before was behind the counter. He smiled at me. “You’re not from around here…”
I smiled back. “No, I’m not. I’m a friend of Brock’s. I was supposed to meet him here more than an hour ago, and he hasn’t shown up yet. Any chance you’ve heard from him?”
The man finished drying a glass and slung a towel over his shoulder. “Nope. I left him a message a half hour ago myself. The back refrigerator isn’t working, and I wasn’t sure which repair shop he wanted me to call.”
I frowned. “Oh. Okay.”
The guy studied me. “You look pretty worried.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m sure I’m just paranoid, and he’s going to be here any minute.”
The bartender reached over to the cash register and swiped a cell phone from inside the drawer. He gestured with it. “Let me put your mind at ease. I was the sheriff in this little town for thirty years. Still got all my connections on speed dial.” He hit a few buttons on his cell, and it started to ring on speakerphone.
“Meadowbrook Police Department. Officer Langston speaking.”
“Kenny,” the bartender said. “Still taking too long to answer the phone, I see.”
The guy chuckled. “And you still got nothing better to do than bust my balls, even after you retire. What’s going on, Sheriff Ronin?”
The old man smiled. “Need a favor. You haven’t heard anything about Brock Hawkins, have you? It seems he’s gone MIA for a while, and that’s not like him.”
“Shit. I forgot you started bartending over at Brock’s bar, or I would’ve reached out as soon as the call came in.”
The sheriff’s smile wilted. “What’s going on?”
“Brock was in an accident.”
***
I ran through a set of double doors and up to the window. “I’m looking for Brock Hawkins. He was brought in by ambulance.”