Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“You obviously hit your head, too,” he answers dryly.
I hear him washing dishes in the kitchen.
“How did you see my car?” I ask.
“I was out feeding Rex and I looked down the hill when I saw your headlights spin and then go off the road.”
I get a flashback of how scary that few seconds were.
“I thought someone may have been hurt so I came looking for you,” he says.
“Thank you.” I take a big mouthful. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”
“You would have been okay,” he replies. “I get the feeling that you can look after yourself just fine.”
I smile proudly. I like that he made that observation.
I can look after myself…. I’ve had to do it all along.
My douche bag husband certainly never did it.
I hear the front door open as the rain really hammers down. “Rex,” I hear him call. “Get out of the rain,” he calls. I smile as I listen. “Dumb dog,” he mutters. “Rex,” he calls again, as I hear the rain really come down hard now.
He comes in and slams the door closed.
“Kid troubles?” I ask.
“You could say that,” he replies. “He’s young and wild, out running around all night. I’m constantly chasing the damn thing and bringing him home.”
“What kind of dog is he?” I ask.
“His mother was wolf. I found her on the side of the road; she’d been hit by a car and been killed. I saw she was nursing so I went looking and two days later I heard them crying in the forest. Brought both pups home, but his sister didn’t make it.”
I turn to look at him over the back of the couch as I see a new side to the prickly man.
“I think his father must have been dog though,” he continues, “or there is one somewhere back in his family; he’s not a full bred wolf.”
I sip my whiskey as I listen. “Is that why he acts different, cause he’s half wild?”
“Maybe,” he replies. “I don’t try and curb him too much. He has free reign. I let him be who he was meant to be. I do spend way too much time looking for him though.”
I smile impressed. Jack’s a big softy.
I finish my dinner and he comes to collect my plate. “Leave that,” I say. “I’ll wash it in the morning, you’ve done enough.”
He gives me a lopsided smile as he picks it up. “It’s okay, I’m used to doing everything.”
I watch him, and suddenly I want to know all there is about Jack.
“Come sit with me and talk,” I call, while I hold my empty glass in the air. “We can have another drink together.”
He picks up the whiskey bottle and comes and sits down on the other couch. He refills both of our glasses and takes a sip as his eyes hold mine. “What do you want to talk about?”
I shrug. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”
He shakes his head.
“What’s your last name?” I ask.
“Stevens.”
“Jack Stevens?” I smile.
He nods.
“I’m Holly McMillan.”
His eyes hold mine and he takes a slow sip of his whiskey. “You got a man at home, Holly McMillan?”
My stomach flutters. “No.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “I was married once, to a liar.”
He listens intently.
“It’s ridiculous. I thought he was the love of my life and he thought I was his meal ticket.”
He frowns.
“He was a stockbroker and he got caught for insider trading.”
“He stole from people?” he asks horrified.
“Aha, and I thought that was the worst of it. But when they were doing his character analysis in court, they brought up all these affairs that he had behind my back with numerous women and it was splashed all over the tabloids.”
His face falls. “You didn’t know?”
“No idea at all. I was completely blindsided. He even had a child with another woman and paid her off not to tell me.” I shrug sadly.
He raises his eyebrows and sips his drink as if lost for words.
“He’s in jail.”
“You divorced him?”
“Aha.” I smile sadly. “It’s funny you know; you think you know how your life is going to turn out. But I never imagined I’d be a thirty-three-year-old divorcee; that was never even on my radar.”
He nods as if understanding.
My eyes go to him in question. “Did your life turn out to be what you thought it would be?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No.”
I wait for his reply.
“Never thought I’d be a widower.”
My face falls. “Your wife died?”
He nods.
I stare at him.
“Brain tumour, seven years ago.”
My heart drops. “I’m so sorry.”
He smiles sadly. “Me too.”
“Were you together long?”
He nods but doesn’t elaborate and I get the feeling that he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. I change the subject. “So, what do you build?” I ask.
“Houses.”
“Tree houses?” I tease.
He chuckles. “No, not tree houses. I own my own business. I have six guys working for me.”