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)
I followed West out to his Sawyers Bend Police SUV. He held open the passenger door. “You hungry?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. He closed the door, and I watched him round the front of the vehicle, my stomach grumbling.
“I’m starving,” I said as he got in. I’d missed dinner at the Manor, but I’d see if Finn would take pity on me and give me some leftovers.
West glanced my way, putting the SUV in reverse. “Do you have plans tonight?”
“Not really,” I said, deciding to run my errands another time. “I was going to eat, put my feet up, and go to bed early. The usual, if I can get out of the brewery before close.”
“Good,” was all he said.
I wanted to ask what that meant, but a wave of fatigue hit me, and I settled into the passenger seat, leaning my head back, giving myself up to the flow. It sounded like he was going to feed me. I wanted food, and I wanted to see West, so whatever happened next was fine with me. In the back of my head, I must have expected him to turn toward town and one of the many restaurants we’d find there. Maybe we could get a table at the Inn.
Instead, he went the other way, toward the Manor. Why would he ask about dinner if he was just taking me home? Before we got to the Manor, he flicked on his blinker and turned left onto a narrow road.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Without looking at me, he said, “My place.”
Anticipation rippled through me as my heart picked up speed in my chest. Maybe I was going to get my wish about that kiss. My stomach rumbled again. “Do you have food at your place?” I asked. I wanted to see where West lived. For all that we’d known each other most of my life, I’d never been to the house he’d bought as an adult.
“I do,” he answered.
“Works for me,” I said, straightening a little in my seat, the fatigue gone. My heart hadn’t slowed. I waited to feel cautious, for the doubts to creep in. I wanted a kiss, but going to his house at night—that seemed to imply a lot more than just a kiss.
Was I ready for that? Was it what I wanted?
I watched the trees flash by under the headlights as we wound further off the main road, turning at a bank of old mailboxes.
“Hang on,” West said. “Driveway’s a little bumpy. We need to get it regraded, but all the neighbors can’t agree, so at the moment it’s a mess.”
He wasn’t wrong. I gripped onto the oh-shit handle above the door, gritting my teeth as the SUV bounced beneath us. After a very long, bumpy minute, we turned onto a neatly graveled drive.
Chapter Thirteen
AVERY
The headlights penetrated the growing dark, illuminating a neatly adorable craftsman cottage painted a light green, trimmed in darker green, with two pumpkins on the front stoop. West parked in front of the matching single-car garage.
“This is your place?” I asked.
“Yeah. Why? You look surprised.”
“It’s so pretty,” I said.
He laughed. “Did you think I’d live in a log cabin or something?”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” I said, trying to figure out what I’d pictured for West. “I don’t know. Something manly, with a stuffed bear on the porch.”
He laughed again. West wasn’t overly serious, but he wasn’t a big laugher either. The sound of it, rich and full and true, did something to my insides. I loved making this man laugh.
“Nah, log cabins are drafty, and when they really start settling, they’re a pain in the ass to keep up. This beauty was built eighty years ago, and it’s rock solid. It needed some new appliances, a few coats of paint, floors refinished, and a little work in the bathrooms. Now it’s good as new.”
“How long have you lived here?” I asked, opening my door before he could round the SUV to do it for me. I ignored his slight scowl and followed him to the front porch.
“I bought it six years ago, not long after I got the job as chief.” West unlocked the door and swung it open. “I was renting, had been saving up, and I decided it was time to find my own place. I wanted a little space from town. It was a little too easy for people to ring my doorbell when I was in the apartment above the pizza place, you know?”
“I can imagine,” I said. The lights were already on inside, and the smells—fresh baked bread, lemon, basil—had my mouth watering. “Did you cook?”
“Yeah, Finn gave me the recipe,” he said with a shrug, a hint of pink hitting his cheeks. “You can leave your jacket and your purse over there.” He lifted his chin in the direction of an antique bench with a tall back that had coat hooks running along the top. I hung my jacket, my purse, and sat to take off the boots I was wearing. “This is perfect.” It looked like an antique.