Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
She chewed nervously on her lip once more before she stood. “And earlier, what I was saying…”
“I already forgot about it.”
“Thank you, Hudson.” As she started to walk backward toward the door, she tripped, and I immediately stood up to help steady her. She let out a nervous laugh. “I’ll call my dad now. He’s the police chief in town.”
I raised a brow. “Guess I better behave around his daughter then.”
Okay, where in the hell did that come from? That was twice now I had flirted with her. I watched as a beautiful rush of pink rose up from the base of her throat and colored her cheeks. God, it was the sweetest, yet sexiest, thing I’d ever seen.
“I should probably tell you my brother is a cop, as well, so you might want to be on your very best behavior.”
I made a crossing motion over my heart with my index finger as she let out a soft laugh and said, “I’ll let you get back to work.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and I watched as she made her way between the bookshelves.
I had already been anticipating my trip back here to Boggy Creek—but Greer Larson just made everything a bit more exciting.
I shut my laptop. I hadn’t written a single word. Not one. My mind had been somewhere else for the last two hours and not on the book I was supposed to be writing.
I looked up and out the large glass window into the bookstore. My breath felt like it caught in my throat as I saw the object of my thoughts helping someone look for a book.
Greer.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Or what she had said to her friend Candace when she didn’t know I was standing there.
“I would even do it in my office on my desk. Actually…I’d do it on the study office desk.”
For the last forty minutes, I had imagined taking Greer Larson on this damn study desk every which way possible. No woman had ever consumed my thoughts the way she did.
As if she knew I was staring, she turned her head and our eyes met. I smiled and stood as I slipped my laptop into my bag and placed it over my shoulder.
When I walked out of the room, I turned left and headed over to the area of the bookstore where my books would most likely be. She wasn’t lying; there were a number of them on the shelf. I glanced around and saw four comfortable chairs placed about the area. A young girl, maybe seventeen or eighteen, sat in one of the chairs, reading When We Believed in Mermaids.
“Good book,” I said softly as I walked past her.
She glanced up at me and smiled. “Greer lets me come in and read it.”
I pulled a random book off the self and sat down across from her. “Why don’t you buy it?”
The girl’s cheeks flushed, and I instantly hated that I had asked. I knew better.
“The library doesn’t have it, and I can’t afford to buy it right now.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even asked. Bad taste on my part.”
She shook her head. “Nah, it’s okay.”
“You like suspense?” I asked, flipping through the book I held in my hands. It was a Dean Koontz novel. In the Heart of the Fire.
“Like suspense? I love it. Give me a good mystery thriller, and I’m in my happy place.”
I nodded. “Same goes for me.”
“Who’s your favorite? I have a ton. Like, I couldn’t name just one.”
This time I laughed. “I’m going to have to give you the same answer. I admire a lot of authors, not only in this genre but others as well.”
She smiled. “Oh, me too. Greer got me into reading historical romance. I love it.”
I lifted my eyes to where I knew Greer was and wished I had the ability to see through the wooden bookshelves.
“John Grisham is really good.”
The young girl’s voice pulled my attention back to her. “He is—very talented.”
She nodded. “Anni Taylor is another one of my favorites. Lisa Jewell…oh, and Elizabeth George. Hudson Higgins, James Patterson, Lucy Foley. I could go on.”
I smiled, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of my name. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to hearing it said among such talented authors. It wasn’t uncommon for readers to not know who I was. I didn’t have my photo anywhere on my website or on the books. The only place you could find a picture of me was on social media. Even then, my profile picture had me with a lighter shade of hair, thanks to the fact that we held the photo shoot in the summer when my hair was naturally lighter.
Then, as if she could read my mind, the young girl tilted her head and studied me. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Hudson Higgins?”