Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Now I’m an ape? Earlier this week, according to my daughter, she was in love with me. Okay, so that might be Alex being dramatic, but I do know what I witnessed myself. And that was Darcy Hampton being nice to this ape. Darcy Hampton wanted to cook supper for this ape. Darcy Hampton went all outdoorsy for this ape. For fuck’s sake. The woman is impossible. ‘Unlucky for you, Darcy,’ I say, pushing myself off the side of her car and standing up straight. ‘That means our daughter is half ape, too.’ I smile sweetly, and she throws me a look that puts all other filthy looks to shame.
‘You disgust me.’ Ramming her car into gear, she slams her foot down and speeds off, kicking up dirt and leaves in my face. Well, that’s karma, if ever there was some. She owed me that, I guess.
I look to the heavens and groan, dragging my hands down my face. That didn’t go exactly how I planned, but I don’t know what I expected. A hug? Her blessing? Tears of happiness that after all these years I’ve found my person? Fat chance, Ryan.
‘How’d it go?’ Hannah calls from the door, drying her hands on a tea towel as Alex muscles in at her side.
I smile and give a stupid thumbs-up. ‘Perfect.’ And they both disperse happily. ‘Shit.’
My phone rings, and I quickly pull it out, hissing when I scrape my burn on my pocket. ‘About fucking time,’ I mutter to myself as I answer Lucinda’s call. ‘I’ve been calling, texting.’
‘Busy, busy,’ she replies. ‘I had a shitstorm in the PR department to deal with.’
‘And I’m not the cause? Fucking hell.’
‘I know. We’re celebrating later. Shame you’re not here.’
‘Have one for me. Now what do you have?’ I walk away from the cabin, checking over my shoulder as I go. I can see them through the window, faffing around the kitchen, laughing and chatting. My girls.
‘Hannah Bright didn’t exist before 2014.’
‘What?’ I freeze, my hand tightening around my phone at my ear.
‘I’ve gone back as far as I can. The trail ends in June 2014. She lived in Tenerife for a few years, rented a room above a bar. She rented the shop a few months back and moved in five weeks ago when she returned to the UK. The shop’s on a six-month lease.’
‘Six months?’ I ask, my mind in spasm. ‘If she rented it a few months ago, that means she only has a few months left.’
‘Correct.’
‘Why would she only rent for six months?’
‘Because she doesn’t plan on staying, would be my guess.’
My body turns toward the cabin, my heart turning to stone in my chest. She doesn’t plan on staying here? ‘If the trail ends in 2014, how the hell did she rent the shop?’
‘Oh, she’s got a sparkling credit history that goes back twenty years. But Hannah Bright the woman only goes back five.’
My fucking brain hurts. ‘What does that mean, Lucinda?’
‘I don’t know. That’s all I have.’
Not good enough. I need more. ‘Lucinda, you’ve got to do better than that. Please.’
‘Who is this woman, anyway?’
‘She’s a friend of a friend.’
‘Oh, so you’re asking for a friend?’ The sarcasm in her tone is potent.
‘Yes, and if you find out a bit more for my friend, he will be most grateful.’
‘Ryan,’ she sighs. ‘I don’t have time for this.’
I’m not beyond begging. She didn’t exist before 2014? What the hell is going on? ‘I’m asking you, as a friend, please just dig a little further.’
‘Fine!’ She slams the phone down, and I turn, looking through the window again. My girls are both dancing around the kitchen, belting out the lyrics to Jon Bon Jovi’s ‘Livin’ on a Prayer.’ I reach up to massage my chest, trying to rub away the ache, and Hannah spots me, waving a wooden spoon, her smile blindingly bright.
I return it as best I can. Fuck me, I feel like I’ve had my heart cut out of my chest. Who are you, Hannah?
The honk of a horn from behind sounds, and I force a smile to welcome our guests. Jake pulls up next to my truck and hops out, and I can’t lie, I’m alarmed by how tired he looks. ‘Shit, mate, you look ready for the morgue.’ I go to him and get a smack on the shoulder before he hauls me in for a manly hug. ‘Is Caleb still not sleeping well?’
‘I’ve had a better night’s sleep in my car on a stakeout in the depths of winter.’
‘Ouch.’
Releasing me, he gives me the once-over. ‘You’re not looking too rosy yourself. You have no newborn, so what gives?’
I shake my head when I see Cami on her way over, giving Jake a look to suggest we should discuss later. He takes the hint quickly and moves aside so I can welcome his wife. ‘Did someone say you had a baby a few weeks ago?’ I ask, looking her up and down. She looks as terrific as always.