Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“An hour or so ago. Tika hung out for a bit and then took off to explore again.”
She took a bite and nearly groaned at the still warm and cheesy taste. It was kind of him to get her breakfast. “What time is it?”
“Just after seven.”
She jolted. “I have to get to the tavern.”
“I already talked to Daisy,” he said. “She has things covered for the morning and said she hired help for the day. In addition, the hardware store actually had a window the size of the tavern one that should be installed by now.”
Should his making arrangements like that irritate Amka? She let the fork hang in her hand for a second, not answering right away. The steam from the food curled up into the air between them. He hadn’t looked at her yet. “You’re kind of taking over.”
The porch boards creaked beneath them, the sound quiet but constant. “If I were taking over, you wouldn’t be engaged.”
So they were back to that topic? She dug into the eggs, trying not to notice the hard, impossibly solid body next to her—the same one that had held her all night without saying a word. Her fork scraped the bottom of the container. “This is weird,” she muttered.
“Agreed.”
She kept eating, silence stretching between them. Not uncomfortable exactly, but not easy either. Something hung between them, and she didn’t know what to do with it. “Why?” she finally asked, throwing his own word from the night before back at him. Why was he taking such an interest in her life?
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Didn’t flinch. He just kept staring at the trees like the answer might be carved into the bark somewhere. The side of his face looked as rugged and distant as the mountains around them. “I don’t know.”
“Christian, that’s not good enough.”
“I’m aware.” He turned then, his focus locking on her. That sharp, mismatched gaze cut through her usual defenses like they weren’t even there. Her face heated. “There’s something about you.”
“Yeah?” She stabbed at the last bite of egg and shoved it in her mouth, chewing slow. “Like what?”
He didn’t answer right away.
She didn’t push, not sure she wanted to hear the truth from him. If he could figure it out.
Nothing about her felt mysterious. In her late twenties, she managed the local bar and had never once left the state where she grew up. Work filled her days and kept her body strong. Long black hair framed her face, and her eyes matched the hue perfectly. She had decent cheekbones and skin. Not flawless, but defined enough to draw a second glance from people paying attention.
She understood exactly what she looked like. Attractive but not the kind of woman strangers noticed across a room. She didn’t care. Numbers made sense, and so did people. She could stretch inventory, calm a fight before it started, and outwork anyone behind her bar. In addition, she could quilt like the best of them after a couple glasses of wine.
“You’ve traveled the world, C.” Then she coughed. “I mean, Christian.” Only his brothers called him C. She remembered him beating the heck out of a football player from another town who called him that back during a high school game.
“You can call me C.”
Holy crap. Her entire body tingled. A year ago? She would’ve been doodling his name all over the receipts at the bar. Now? Now she was engaged to an asshat and might still end up going to prison. But she had to understand. Just this once. Her voice came out low, nearly lost under the sound of water dripping off branches. “I don’t know what you’ve done exactly, but I imagine you’ve met a lot of women.”
He reached to his side, picked up a to-go cup, and offered it to her.
She stared at it.
“I got you a chai latte,” he said. “From Hitty’s.” He’d gone to both the Green Plate and Hitty’s for her?
Her fingers closed around the cup before she thought twice. Still warm. Still fragrant. She took a big drink without hesitation. “Perfect,” she said.
Hitty had the best coffee and ice cream on the planet, as far as she was concerned. Not that Amka had much to compare it to since she hadn’t exactly made a habit of leaving the state, let alone the country. But Hitty’s had to be among the best out there.
He watched her drink, expression unreadable.
“You know how I take my drink. You know what I like. So why the interest?” Her voice sharpened. “Or do you just collect wounded animals?”
His mouth curved, just barely. “Are you wounded?”
She cursed herself internally. Why had she said that out loud? “Well, someone tried to blow me up,” she said, lifting an eyebrow. “Last night somebody shot in my direction, although I’m not entirely convinced they aimed at me.”