Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“No, Galvin, they’re likely dead.”
Even as she said the words, she wasn’t entirely sure she believed herself. She took another bite, set the fork down, and took a few steps toward her sofa where her sweatshirt was. After slipping it over her torso, she went to the back door, gripped her broom, and swung the door open.
In the courtyard, there were strings of white lights illuminating the area. They weren’t those tiny fairy lights, but the bigger bulbs people often used in their backyard to give off the perfect glow. She and her dad had strung some a few years back. During the summer, they would sit out on their patio, make s’mores in the fire, and talk about how Galvin’s mom would’ve loved this or that.
Galvin wasn’t so sure.
On her platform, she stood, eyeing the person on the table. Resigned, she took a deep inhale. “Hey, are you okay?”
No answer.
She yelled a bit louder, but not loud enough to draw the attention of anyone who may be walking by.
Again, no answer.
“Crap on a cracker,” she muttered as she made her way down the stairs. As soon as she hit the bottom step, she realized she left her phone in her apartment. She looked back at her door and then at the person on the table. She squinted, taking in the form.
“Hey, you can’t be here,” she said as soon as realized it was the guy from earlier, the one who had ordered the club sandwich, after telling her he had the menu memorized but had no idea about dipping sauces.
“Hey,” she yelled, louder this time. With her broom handle solidly in her hand, she stepped forward and jabbed him in his side. His head turned and his eyes opened. She gasped.
“You need to leave before I call the police.”
He huffed out a chuckle. “You need to leave.”
How freaking rude.
“I live here and you’re trespassing,” she told him. “The restaurant is closing soon and . . .” And what, exactly? “You know what, never mind. I’m calling the cops.”
The man sat up quickly. “Wait, don’t do that, Galvin.”
“Then leave,” she said, pointing toward the door. “You’re not supposed to be here, and it’s creepy.”
He laughed. “I can be here.”
“No, you can’t. Mr. Carter was very clear about this space being for employees only. You’re not an employee.”
“True, but I am a Carter,” he told her.
She sighed heavily accepting she couldn’t win this challenge. “Okay?”
He slid off the table and came toward her. For about ten seconds, she got lost in him. Her eyes traveled from his shoes, up his legs, body, and finally to his face. He was tall, lean, and muscular, with dark short hair. It was too dark to tell what color his eyes were, but from what she recalled from earlier, they were blue. As blue as the ocean, which she thought was cheesy, considering where they were.
Galvin maneuvered the broom handle between them, stopping him in his tracks. “Stay there.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“You’re a stranger and, again, trespassing.”
“I’m not trespassing,” he told her, again. This time, he held his hand out to shake hers, but she just stared. “I’m Sail Carter. My parents own the diner.”
Galvin racked her brain for the long list of Carter boys her father had told her about. Granted, it wasn’t that long, but her memory of the conversations was short?
“Your name is Sail?”
He smiled and did one of those little chuckles, as if he was trying to flirt with her. “Sure is.”
“What an odd name. Why would your parents do that to you?”
“Says the woman named Galvin?”
“I’m named after my grandparents. You’re named after . . .” She paused and tried to think of anything other than a sailboat and came up empty. “A wind sail?”
Sail laughed. “It’s not that strange,” he told her. “My parents run multiple businesses and all their sons are involved. Once you hear our names, you don’t forget them. It makes it very easy when you need one of the Carter boys.”
Galvin stared.
“My older brother is Dune, then there’s me, Tidal, and Crew.”
At the mention of Dune, she nodded. “Dune, I know. He runs the nightclub here. But the rest . . .” She shook her head.
Galvin grew suspicious. “Look, I think you should go. I don’t know you and you clearly have no idea what goes on at the diner. For all I know, you’re trying to pillage the diner.”
“Pillage?”
“Means rob.”
“I know what it means. I’m questioning your usage of the word.”
She shrugged. “I figured with a name like Sail, you’re some sort of pirate.”
“Argh,” he said, laughing as he crooked his arm.
Galvin pushed the handle of the broom into him, and he stepped back. “Like I said, you don’t seem genuine, and I’m going to call Mr. Carter to let him know he has a . . .” she waved her free hand in his direction. “A whatever you are intruding on his property. This is a small town. It won’t take the police long to find you.”