Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
"You said there weren't any unsolved murders."
"There aren't. If yours is the first, I may haunt your pool house, motherfucker."
"Your prerogative. Just don't fuck in my pool. I already have to tear this one out and start over." I hang up on him, shoving my phone back into my pocket as I stride through the kitchen toward the back door. I don't bother turning on any lights. I don't want whoever is out there to see me coming just in case.
I'm not worried, though. Despite Drake and Dillon's lack of faith in my ability to handle the situation my damn self…I can handle the situation my damn self. I may be a goddamn eccentric billionaire, but I'm not a goddamn helpless eccentric billionaire.
I grew up playing football. I spend an hour in the gym every day. I'm more than capable of handling whatever needs handling.
And one lone woman isn't that fucking scary. Whoever the hell she is, she better have a damn good reason for being in my pool house if she doesn't want to spend the night in jail. Because, all jokes aside, I'm not inclined to let her stay. The last thing I need around here is a woman I don't know living on my property.
That's a disaster waiting to happen, and I'm opting all the way out of that bullshit.
Chapter Two
Madison
"You're going to spend your life in prison, Madison Laurent," I mutter to myself, pacing in restless circles around the small bedroom in Jack Whitlock's pool house. I shouldn't even be here, especially since I'm almost certain he's actually home tonight. But I don't have anywhere else to go, either.
Risking prison for a place to sleep? Seems kinda worth it, honestly. Especially since everyone in town thinks I'm dead.
Until three days ago, I hadn't set foot in Silver Spoon Falls since the day I turned eighteen. I disappeared that day, determined to keep myself alive and out of my father's hands.
My plan worked. I've been gone for almost seven years to the day, and no one has come looking. They just assumed I died somewhere and left it alone. As far as they know, I'm a freaking ghost.
Surprise. Not dead.
I am highly annoyed, though.
This is the last place I want to be right now. But there's no way I'm going to let my father have me declared dead just so he can get his hands on the fortune my mother left me and the company that's rightfully mine. He may have been running in since she died, but it's my company. If coming back to haunt him means ruining his cushy little life, so be it.
I just need to stay out of his hands until my birthday…which means I need to stay hidden until then.
Hiding out in a hot billionaire's pool house probably wasn't my best plan ever, but from what I know of Jack Whitlock—and trust me, I know a lot about the man—he's never home. My father used to say he was married to his job and practically lived at his office. Turns out, my father is evil…but he was also right.
I've been living out here for three days and Jack hasn't been home once. Until tonight.
"Maybe I should suck it up, go knock on his door, and tell him that I'm out here."
"He already knows."
"Christ on a cracker!" I scream, spinning around so fast I crash into the wall. An oar mounted as décor wobbles overhead before whipping sideways. I hit the floor on my hands and knees, narrowly avoiding being cracked against the skull with it.
"This town is seriously trying to kill me," I groan, my hands and knees stinging from the sudden drop.
"Shit!" Jack falls to his knees beside me, reaching out for me. "Are you okay? Let me see your head."
My gaze flies to his.
Startling blue eyes lock with mine.
"I…" I swallow a whimper, staring at him helplessly. I know words. Can't think of any right now, but I definitely know them.
I was just a kid the last time I saw Jack Whitlock, and he was…Lord, he was beautiful even then. He hasn't changed much. Hell, I think he's grown more beautiful.
Messy dark hair sweeps over his forehead, ending just above his brows. His face is a study in perfection—every sharp angle and razor-sharp line stunning. His body is rock solid, definitely not the body of a billionaire married to his job. But Jack has never been a normal man. He's always seemed a little bit larger than life to me.
He certainly looks larger than life looming over me like he is right now. I'm not a small girl by any means, but I feel downright tiny next to him.
And he's looking at me—really looking at me.
The intense urge to bite his bottom lip rages through me.
I whimper despite myself.
"Fuck," he rumbles, confusion sweeping through his expression, followed by something fierce. His hand comes up as if in a trance, tilting my head back. "I know you."