Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
An automated voice from Scottie’s iPad said, “I want to take a bath.” He’d pressed the bath icon on his picture-board app.
Carly laughed. “I think he misses your naked manshowers.”
“Oh, I’d bet he’s going to miss your bikini ones more.”
Carly blushed and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m making gluten-free pasta and that sauce you like. Are you hungry?”
Fuck. Was I ever hungry. Her question reminded me of the dream I’d had last night about fucking her while she called me an evil pig and pulled my hair. And of course, that only confirmed the fact that I was an evil pig to be having that kind of fantasy about Brad’s woman. I felt like a dirt bag.
I cleared my throat. “I’m starving, actually. Thank you. I’ve had nothing but peanut-butter sandwiches and alcohol the past few days.”
“Sounds…nourishing.” She chuckled.
I stared at her for a moment. Carly had sauce on her white shirt and her hair was all over the place, but she still looked stunningly beautiful—somehow even more beautiful than before I left. For a moment, I imagined a world where I’d just come home to this woman, lifted her up onto the counter, and kissed the hell out of her. A world, of course, where she hadn’t also been the love of my best friend’s life.
Get these fucking thoughts out of your head, Josh.
There was one sure-fire way I knew to switch gears with my thoughts—bringing up Brad.
“You were listening to Brad the other night…before I left.” I gulped.
Carly stilled. “How did you know?”
“I heard his voice coming from your room.”
Her cheeks reddened. “It was a voicemail.”
“I know. I figured that out.” I scratched the dog’s ears. “Do you do that a lot?”
“Sometimes it brings me comfort. He always had my back. And hearing his voice reminds me of what it felt like to be loved. I feel very fortunate to have those voicemails.”
“I don’t have any voicemails from him saved. Not sure why. We always texted, I guess. But it was nice to hear him again.”
She walked over and grabbed my sleeve. “You can listen to them whenever you want.”
I smiled sadly. “Thank you.”
Carly looked like she was about to cry. She cleared her throat. “So, how was the trip?”
“Good. But like I told you before, it felt a little weird being back there—like I was a fish out of water in my own life.”
“I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I were in California right now.”
“It was strange to have all this free time on my hands—even with work. I wasn’t responsible for anyone else. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
“I can imagine.”
“I sort of missed being back here,” I admitted.
She tilted her head. “Really…”
“Yeah. Really,” I said.
“Well, this is an exciting place,” she teased.
A loud knock interrupted our conversation.
When I opened the door, there was a police officer standing there.
My hands tensed. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Carly Garber?”
What the hell?
“That’s me,” she said from behind.
“Officer Allan Spencer from the Woodsboro Police. It seems we’ve finally located the owner of the dog you’ve been keeping here.”
Oh shit.
“What?” Carly’s expression fell. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Seems he belongs to a local woman with dementia. Name’s Heidi Donahue. She lives on Wilson Road. She took him for a walk in the middle of the night and couldn’t remember what happened. Her daughter’s been looking for him ever since. Ms. Donahue apparently hadn’t told her the dog was gone until recently, thus the delay.” He showed us a photo.
Carly took the picture from him and examined it. “Wow. Okay. Yeah. That’s definitely Bubba.” She looked up at the officer. “What’s his actual name? Do you know?”
“Hank.”
I stifled laughter. “Hank?”
Carly looked over at me. I couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh or cry. “Hank,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Carly,” I murmured.
“You have to take him back now?” she asked the officer.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but yes.”
Carly went over to the couch where Bubba was sitting. She buried her face in his fur. “You have to go home, Bub—Hank. I didn’t know that was your name. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll let you say your goodbyes,” the officer said. “I’ll be right outside.”
Tears filled Carly’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around the dog. Was it too much to ask of the damn universe to let this woman keep the one thing that seemed to make her happiest? Not that we should’ve been harboring a missing dog, but Carly worked hard around here to make us happy. She deserved the joy that dog had brought her in the short time he’d been here. Hadn’t she fucking lost enough in her life? Now she had to say goodbye to him, too.
It’s official. Being here is turning me into a fucking sap.
She sniffled. “Say goodbye, Scottie. Bubba has to go.”