Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Kind of,” Hawk said. “But not enough to help.” Changing the subject, he said, “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” I hadn’t planned to go to work today, and Forrest and I hadn’t discussed what came next. If Hawk wanted some of my time, well, for him, I had all the time in the world.
“I want to show you something,” he said, turning and heading for the front door of the Manor.
I fell into step beside him.
“You know,” he said as we walked down the front steps, “I have a friend in Atlanta. He’s working at Sinclair Security. Emmett Blake. You met him as Jay Reynolds.”
“You mean the guy who kidnapped Quinn and then disappeared?” I asked, intrigued that Hawk was bringing up the mysterious Jay/Emmett. Quinn had asked me to let it go when I’d demanded to know why her kidnapper hadn’t been arrested. I didn’t know the whole story and doubted I ever would, but now that Hawk was bringing him up, I was dying of curiosity. On brand for Hawk, he didn’t go into detail.
“It’s a long story,” he said, bypassing all the juicy stuff, “but Emmett is with Sinclair Security now, working for Lucas Jackson. Emmett knows a lot about ciphers and code-breaking. If you can’t figure it out, let me know, and I’ll connect you.”
“Okay, sure.” I hadn’t thought about enlisting the brainiac spy types at Sinclair Security. For one thing, they were crazy expensive, and I didn’t have much cash of my own. And for another, I wanted to do this myself.
I followed Hawk down the drive and then to the gravel path that led to the front door of the gatehouse. Once inside, we were greeted by a loud, demanding meep.
“Leo!” I called out to my sister Quinn’s attack cat, a massive Maine Coon that looked like a bobcat but was very much a house cat. Leo came to his feet with a stretch, landed on the floor with a thud, and sauntered over to Hawk, rubbing against his legs but dodging Hawk’s attempt to pick him up.
“Attitude,” Hawk said with an amused curl of his lips. “I left him alone all morning, and now he’s going to make me pay.”
“Well, he is a cat,” I said, scooping Leo up and draping him over my shoulder.
I was used to Shadow, who was a fraction of the size of Leo. The two cats had cohabitated at Heartstone while Parker was redoing the gatehouse. I’d been afraid Leo would eat my baby Shadow, but instead, they’d become fast friends.
“You’ll have to bring this guy over for a playdate,” I said, and Hawk just shook his head.
“Not today. Soon. Stay there. I’ll be right back,” he ordered.
I watched him jog up the stairs to their bedroom on the second floor. Eventually, I suspected they’d let Parker renovate the other side of the gatehouse. But for now, this side—the one they actually lived in—was perfect.
When Hawk moved to Heartstone, the inside of the gatehouse had been stuck in the fifties, decorated with mouse droppings and cobwebs. Hawk had resisted Parker’s efforts to renovate until Quinn moved in, and a busted pipe flooded the place. Hawk hadn’t cared about a nice living space for himself, but he’d wanted it for Quinn.
I thought he was happy with the result. The renovated space looked as if it had grown from the woods surrounding the Manor. Shades of green adorned the walls, the furniture mostly wood, upholstered in soft fabrics in browns and grays with hints of sapphire, reminding me of the forest on a summer day. It fit Quinn to perfection.
Upstairs, Parker had turned two bedrooms and a tiny bath into a sumptuous suite complete with a walk-in closet I knew Hawk and Quinn would never fill. They were two peas in a pod when it came to that: ten thousand pairs of technical hiking pants, and I doubted they owned a set of formal wear between them.
Hawk came jogging back down the stairs, his hands empty. He came to a stop in front of me and said, “I’ll trade you.” Digging in his pocket, he pulled something out and shoved it in my hand as he lifted Leo from my arms.
I uncurled my fingers to find myself holding a deep blue velvet box. A jewelry box. A stab of excitement fired through me. My heart pounded as I looked up at Hawk, my eyes wide. “Are you—” I began, but he interrupted.
“Quinn and I talked about this, but it doesn’t feel real without the ring. I saw this, and it said Quinn to me, but I want your opinion first,” he said with an earnestness that brought tears to my eyes.
Hawk, who never asked for anything, wanted my input on something so important. My throat tightened as I flicked the box open to find a ring that proved this man knew my sister Quinn like no one ever had or would. It was delicate, white gold with leaves carved into the band, a diamond flanked by two small emeralds.