Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“I took it upon myself to conduct some further study, during which I managed to locate a living descendent of Josephine Farnham.”
Excitement courses through me. “Here? In London? That’s incredible.”
“She’s called Ruby Farnham. She indicated she has some documents you might find useful, and she’s willing to speak with you. If you’d like to come by the library, I can give you her contact information.”
Holy shit. This is fantastic. If anyone can put the final pieces together and hopefully tell me what became of Josephine, it’ll be her living relatives.
“Mr. Baxley, you’re truly a credit to your profession,” I blurt out, my voice ringing with gratitude. “Thank you. You’ve saved my life.”
“Yes, well.” He clears his throat to mask his characteristic discomfort. “Don’t leave me waiting all evening.”
As we’re hanging up, I get a text from Nate, which drags me right back down to earth. He’s back from Dublin and wants to meet up.
Immediately, a pang of guilt twists my gut. I think about what I was doing last night and with whom, and that tight, uncomfortable sensation intensifies.
My generation is constantly being told to embrace sexual empowerment. Love the way you want to love. Fuck who you want to fuck. Get married or have casual sex. Be polyamorous or monogamous or ethically nonmonogamous. I constantly hear these terms being thrown around, and I want to be that unfettered person, the one who doesn’t feel guilty about dating multiple people.
But I don’t think I am.
36
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, I’M ABLE TO SET AN APPOINTMENT WITH Josephine’s grandniece Ruby, who lives in a village about an hour north of London. I don’t know why I’m more nervous about this meeting than any of my previous research outings, but I’ve been messing with my hair in the mirror for twenty minutes, and all I’ve managed to do is leave clumps of red on the bathroom floor. Finally I say to hell with it and wrap it up in a bun.
I’m getting my bag together and checking to make sure I’ve got the right address in my phone when Jack strides into my room.
“Where you off to?” he says, shirtless and still sweaty from his run.
“Going to interview that woman about Josephine.”
“You need a ride? I can ask Jamie to borrow his car.”
“The Jag? He would never. Anyway, I’m good.”
Jack wrinkles his forehead. “You said it was out in Tonwell? You’re not taking the train all the way out there?”
“No, I got a ride. But thank you.”
He follows me downstairs, watching as I put on my shoes and grab my coat. I had hoped to slip out of here while he was in the shower, but no such luck.
“What, Ben Tulley send you another limo?”
He’s mostly kidding when he peeks through the curtains to look out the front window. The smile fades when instead he sees Nate leaning on his motorcycle at the curb.
“Ah. Got it.”
“I won’t be late.” I try to keep my voice light, but the tightness of Jack’s jaw is impossible to mistake. “I mentioned my appointment and he offered.”
And I wanted to see him, but I don’t say that part out loud. It’s true, though. I’ve missed Nate.
If this were an easy decision, I’d have made it already.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t have to look to know it’s Nate asking if I’m ready to go. For all our sakes, I don’t answer it.
Jack leans against the door, still watching me.
I bite my lip. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“All right.”
He takes a step toward me.
“Jack— ”
He has me up against the wall before I can blink. His lips find my neck, planting hot, hungry kisses along the tendons there. My knees wobble as Jack’s hand drifts down my stomach toward the juncture of my thighs.
I gasp when he cups me over my jeans, the heat of his palm sending a sizzle of pleasure to my clit.
His mouth moves close to my ear. “I’m going to sneak into your room tonight, Abbey,” he rasps. “And I’m going to eat your pussy all goddamn night.”
Oh. My. God.
Then he smiles. “I want you to think about that when you’re with him today.”
My heartbeat is dangerously unstable. With a little smirk, Jack withdraws his hand and wanders toward the stairs.
Outside, I’m still struggling to banish Jack’s threat—or rather promise— from my mind when Nate greets me with his crooked grin. “You weren’t thinking of standing me up?”
Just that small inflection in his voice, the way he shoves his hair out of his eyes, throws me headlong back into the blender of conflicted feelings. Ten seconds ago, my heart was pounding for Jack. Now it’s careening for Nate. This is not good.
“Not a chance. Just some house business.”
Nate isn’t shy about tilting my chin up to kiss me. A deep I-haven’t-seen-you-in-weeks kiss that wakes up every nerve and gets me thinking about blowing off this whole trip to head straight to his place.