Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
The cut had been shallow and was mostly healed, but overall, two thumbs down on knife wounds from me. I wasn’t too keen on my brother almost getting stabbed either.
Cammie took her place behind the bar, grabbing a pint glass and pulling a beer for a customer. I patted her on the shoulder and headed back to my office to grab my bag and my jacket. I needed to stop at the drugstore on the way home. Hopefully, whoever Hawk sent after me wouldn’t mind a quick stop. I liked his team well enough, but I was hoping none of them showed.
In the week since the Orchard and the hospital, I’d only seen West a few times. He’d come to the taproom to bring me home, and both times, police chief stuff had gotten in the way. We both acted like his chauffeur service was run-of-the-mill, like he was just up on rotation, but I thought we both knew it was more than that.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. I couldn’t forget that kiss. I’d been woozy and in pain, but that kiss had blown it all away. His lips had been so soft, his hands strong as they held my face, reigniting every lustful thought I’d ever had about West Garfield.
He was my brother’s best friend. Too old for me, too serious for me, too bossy for me. All of that was true.
But hey, West was hot. I had eyes, so I’d noticed. I’d filed him away under “never going to happen.”
He’d also never given me the slightest indication he saw me as anything other than Griffen’s annoying little sister. Until lately. Lately, he’d looked at me differently, and I’d realized I liked it.
I still hadn’t seen that kiss coming. And damn, I wanted another one.
I didn’t care if I should, or if it would be good for me, or if it would cause a mess when, inevitably, we stopped kissing. We’d deal with that when it came. In light of all the other crap going on, getting tangled up with West didn’t seem like the worst idea I’d ever had. I slung my purse strap over my shoulder, zipped up my jacket.
Who was I kidding? I was making excuses because I wanted to kiss the police chief again. The first time he’d come to bring me home, he had to bail when his phone rang. Fender bender in town. I’d been disappointed, but I knew it came with the job. Two days before, we’d been about to head out the door, and it happened again. This time, a domestic disturbance. I didn’t know more than that. West knew how to keep his mouth shut. I could respect that, even when it was annoying.
It was leaf season in Western North Carolina, and the height of tourist season. The Inn was booked to the max, every short-term rental in a 50-mile radius was taken, and there were more out-of-state plates in town than locals. Sawyers Bend was a madhouse, but those of us who catered to the tourist trade weren’t complaining. Even my quiet little brewery on the far end of Main Street was packed daily.
I glanced out at the taproom. Cammie and Dave could handle it. They’d have their hands full, but their pockets would be stuffed with tips by the end of the night. My feet ached as I pushed through the door to the taproom and took a spot at the end of the bar, watching Cammie and Dave pull beers, make change, and run credit cards. I just wanted to get home. Maybe the drugstore could wait. But if I didn’t do it now, it’d just be there for me later. I let out a sigh, pushing my hair back from my face. I might as well just get it over with.
The door shoved open, letting in a blast of crisp fall air, and there was West, his dark hair falling in his eyes and his Sawyers Bend police coat hanging open. Here was a man with a gun on his hip who I didn’t mind following me around. My heart lurched as his eyes locked on mine. He crossed the room in that long-legged stride I’d always found so appealing.
For a second, disappointment threaded through me as I wondered if he was here for a beer and not for me. It faded as he headed to my end of the bar.
“I’m your ride tonight. You ready to go?” he asked, reaching to close his hand around my upper arm.
“I’m ready,” I said, letting him tug me close enough to slide his arm around my shoulders, leading me to the door, West angling himself into the crowd, using his shoulder to clear a path. That was the thing about West; sometimes he could be bossy and overbearing, but I liked the way he protected me. I hadn’t had a lot of that for most of my life. Everyone assumed I could take care of myself. I could. I did. But sometimes it was nice to know someone else was taking care of me, too.