Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Focused solely on the dog, I turned onto my street. Funny how I’d owned the Stapleton house for months and months but had only been moved in for weeks. And it was still the Stapleton house to me, though things were gradually becoming mine. My street. My yard. My bedroom on the third floor.
Maybe with time, the whole place would feel like home and mine. And maybe I could figure out how to not think of Worth every other minute. Put myself on a phone diet. Silence the text notifications. Stop hunting memes to share.
And with time, perhaps—
I pulled up short, clutching the dog tighter. Inside the low white fence, a stranger sat under the big tree in my front yard. “What the…?”
I took a cautious step forward. The light-haired man appeared to be possibly sleeping or deep in thought. He wore a wrinkled suit, a three-day beard, and an air of despair. For all her earlier fear, the dog didn’t bark, but like me, she was on red alert for trouble.
Debating whether I needed to call someone about the trespasser, I shifted the dog to one arm and patted my pocket for my phone, only to drop the thing as the stranger blinked his eyes open.
This was no stranger.
I’d know those haunted eyes anywhere. Dark alley. Siberia. Anchorage. There was nowhere I could escape to and not know exactly who this was and what his presence meant: Worth Stapleton had come home at long last to Safe Harbor.