Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Let’s jump in,” Nia says, her eyes wide.
Mera looks to me, then Sable. “I’m in. It looks clean.”
Sable scrunches up her nose. “There might be a huge snake in there?”
“Come on, you only live once,” Nia laughs and climbs up the side. She jumps, screaming, fully clothed, which means the rest of us have to follow suit or risk eternal shame.
“Might as well,” Mera says, putting her cup down.
Fuck it. I climb the ladder and watch Sable cannonball in, sending tidal waves over the rusted edge. Only she would do that, pregnant, without a care in the world. Nia goes in after and then Mera, and before I know it, I am jumping in, my body surrounded by cold water. I surface, gasping and laughing, and the four of us swim around and splash until we’re too cold to take a second more.
We climb out, soaked, just as a heap of guys are coming into the barn.
“Holy shit, Callie,” Nia whistles at me. “You are the literal dictionary definition of hot mess.”
I flip her the bird, but she’s not wrong. My shirt, pale and thin, leaves nothing to the imagination. I peel it off, wringing it at my side, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, I feel eyes on me—a certain intense, all-consuming stare. My gaze moves to the door and locks on Knox looking straight at me. No expression, but not blank, either. More like he’s memorizing me: top to toe, wet hair to ruined jeans, and that unyielding heat in his eyes.
Fuck, I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. Sable whistles, low. “Girl, your body is lit.”
“She ain’t wrong,” Zane winks at me, and I laugh, tossing the wet shirt at him.
“Keep your mind out of the gutter. I’m getting another drink,” I announce, taking my half-filled cup and walking towards the exit as Wolfe tosses his shirt, followed by Talon, and I know they’re going on. My foot slips out just as I step past the guys, some old cow food on the floor, I don’t know, but it sends me stumbling backwards.
Something catches me. No, not something, someone—arms, heavy and sure, lock around my waist and steady me hard against a body I recognize by smell alone. I look up, and Knox’s face is right there, eyes fixed on me. He holds me suspended, one hand at my lower back and the other gripping my opposite arm.
“Watch your step,” he murmurs, voice so low it’s almost a vibration, and for once, I can’t muster a single sarcastic comeback.
We stand like that, frozen in some cliché movie moment, until too much time passes and it isn’t funny or cute anymore. It’s... dangerous. My pulse is everywhere, too loud, and when Knox eventually sets me upright, my face stays close enough to his that I can see a tiny scar above his left eyebrow. His thumb lingers an unholy second longer at my waist; the spot burns afterward like a brand.
I start to say something—a joke, a thank you, anything to dull the sharpness of this minute—but Mera’s whistle echoes through the barn. “You two should get a room.”
The spell shatters.
I wriggle free and make a show of brushing wet hay off my jeans. Knox’s face is unreadable, the classic non-expression, but he doesn’t move until I’m ten feet away. Then he follows, slow as ever, hands buried in his pockets.
God damn.
There is not enough whiskey in the world to make this feeling go away.
7
The weather is gnarly, and for another night, the rain hammers down onto the roof of the farmhouse. At least now, it’s not leaking all through the kitchen. I haven’t heard from Ralston again since his last visit, but I know he is coming soon.
I have tried to dig deeper, to find more, searching through old boxes in the house, but I have come up empty. I want to know why, mostly. Harper was a good person, a kind soul, so why would she work with such a dangerous man?
It just doesn’t make sense.
I know I am missing something, but I don’t know what.
A large crack of thunder has me jerking, staring as the lights begin to flicker. Oh no, please no. This place has a generator, but I don’t know how to use the damn thing, and there is no way I’m staying here if the power goes out.
As if the universe is laughing at me, the lights flick off, turning my world dark.
I curse, fumbling with my phone, only to realize I have no idea where I put it. I trip through the living room, hands out in front of me, praying I don’t break my ankle on a random box. When I find my phone, it’s at three percent. Of course it is.
“Mera,” I mumble, scrolling through my contacts with trembling fingers. “Please answer, please answer...”