Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I came back.”
“I never would have accepted if I had known it was you.”
I glared, and he held up his hand. “I didn’t mean because it’s you, but because I wouldn’t have wanted to make you uncomfortable.”
“Well, I am.”
“You’ll barely see me.”
I stared at him. I wouldn’t have to see him to know he was there. He would be above me, walking, talking, showering. It would be a constant reminder of the past I’d tried so hard to forget.
And I would have to put up with it for weeks.
“Please,” he said simply.
He stepped closer, and I saw something in his face that made me pause before refusing and sending him on his way. He was still handsome, but being this near to him, I could see he was tired, the faint lines around his mouth and eyes suggesting anxiety. Even his gaze was tormented. Silently begging. I made a decision I was certain I would regret quickly.
“Make sure you stay out of my way.”
I turned and ran.
4
OLIVER
My hands shook so hard, I dropped my bag and it took me two attempts to punch in the right code. I picked up my suitcase and walked in, shutting the door behind me and leaning my head back.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “That was…” I shook my head. I didn’t have words for it.
I had been informed Kassie had left town. I’d never heard she had come back. With a sigh, I scrubbed my face. The truth was, I hadn’t spoken to anyone from Richton in over five years. And I’d never thought to check again. I felt the past was best left in the past.
But seeing her today… Kassie. It hit me hard in the chest, stirring up all sorts of memories and feelings I had locked away. Or at least, I thought I had.
Good God, she was beautiful. I had thought so as a boy, but now as a grown-ass man? She was exquisite.
And so goddamn angry at me.
I pushed off the door and headed into the living room. It was light and spacious, simply furnished, but homey with creamy walls and a dark brown leather sofa and chair. The hardwood floors gleamed in the early afternoon light, and I was pleased to see a good-sized TV in the corner. There were added touches—plump cushions on the furniture, a fuzzy blanket draped over the chair.
I carried my suitcase to the bedroom, grateful for the king-sized bed. At six three, I found anything less was uncomfortable to sleep in since my feet usually hung off the end. It, too, had extra touches. Luxurious linens, a fluffy comforter, and plump pillows that looked inviting. The bathroom was across the hall and appeared recently renovated, with a roomy shower. Again, I was impressed by the added toiletries, the thick towels, and the multiple showerheads. A lot of thought had gone into the place. In the hall, I inhaled, the faint scent somehow familiar. It was light and pleasant, the notes of honey and flowers slamming into me as I recognized the fragrance.
It smelled like Kassie. How she had always smelled. Warm, welcoming. Soft and memorable. I had always loved her scent.
I gripped the edge of the doorway, shaking my head. She must have been up here earlier. That was why I smelled it. That had to be it. Otherwise, it might drive me mad.
The well-fitted kitchen was at the back of the house, the windows overlooking a decent-sized backyard. On the counter was a basket and, curious, I pulled it toward me, smiling at the items inside. A container of jam and some coffee pods. A small loaf of bread. A couple of bags of chips and packages of microwave popcorn. And on the counter beside the basket, a note and a plate containing a small pie. I picked it up, studying it. It was blueberry—my favorite—the berries plump and ripe, overflowing the pastry. It looked delicious, and I recalled how much Kassie enjoyed baking pies, so it had to be handmade by her.
The note was simple:
Welcome to Richton.
I hope you will find these items useful until you have a chance to get to the store and buy your own supplies. Bottled water is in the fridge.
Thank you for your business, and if there is anything you need, please let me know.
K. Brennan 905-555-5555
There was the same list as Annie had given me, as well as a small map showing me where stores were located. It was all thoughtful and a nice touch.
One I was sure she wouldn’t have bothered with if she’d known it was me.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a water, carrying it and the pie to the small table. The pastry burst into small flakes as I cut into it with my fork, the explosion of flavor in my mouth decadent. I stared out the window as I ate the entire tasty pie, my mind racing.