Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Harlee, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you. Last night was beautiful, and I’ll cherish the memories for the rest of my life.”
Her eyes pooled with tears before she quickly got off the bed and walked out of my bedroom.
“Harlee!” I called out as I jumped out of bed. I reached for a towel and wrapped it around my waist before I found her in the living room, frantically getting dressed. “Harlee, please don’t do this.”
She pulled her shirt on and stopped. “Don’t do what, Brax? Feel like a whore?”
I flinched. “Do you think that’s how I treated you last night?”
She slipped on her tennis shoes and looked up at me, regret for the words she said clearly in her voice. “Of course not. I’m angry.”
“Harlee, princess…I never promised anything.”
She let a sob slip free as she walked over and grabbed her purse. “I know you didn’t. But I thought maybe you felt the same thing I did.”
I looked away, too afraid that if she looked into my eyes, she’d know exactly how I felt.
She sighed. “Right. Well, I need my car, so if you don’t mind giving me a ride back to the bar…or I could call Addie…”
I shook my head. “No. Give me a second to get dressed.”
I went back to my room, got dressed, and then found Harlee waiting in my truck. The entire drive back to the Sea Dog, she stared out the window. Every now and then I heard her sniffle, but I wasn’t sure what I should say.
Once I pulled into the parking lot next to her car, I softly said her name.
“Harlee.”
“Thanks for the lessons, Brax. I’ll be sure to put them to good use.”
She couldn’t have made a more direct hit to my heart if she’d tried.
She slammed the door to my truck, and I watched as she slipped into her car, pulled out of the parking lot, and drove away.
And just like that, our friendship was never the same again.
It had taken Harlee six months after she’d returned home from college to even look at me, let alone speak to me.
I shook the memories away. All they did was make my heart ache and my mind replay every regretful word I’d said to her. I had been so damn confused at the time, not to mention scared.
“It’s in the past, Brax,” I mumbled to myself.
The wind started to blow harder, and a chill rushed down my spine. I wrapped my coat tightly around me as I stood off to the side of the ferry landing on Lighthouse Island. Maybe Tuesday wasn’t the right day. Maybe I hadn’t come early enough on Wednesdays?
Watching the small group unload from the ferry, I looked for the faces of the guys who I suspected were runners for The Chronicles. I knew the lighthouse might play a part in all of this after Harlee had mentioned it to one of my sisters. I wasn’t sure if it was a slip on her part…or a decoy, perhaps. Either way, I was hell bent on finding out the truth. I wasn’t going to stop until I confirmed my suspicions about who in the hell Ms. Seaside was.
As of yet, I hadn’t seen anyone who looked familiar on the few Wednesdays I’d been there. It would have been easy to give up, but I wasn’t the type to quit. So here I was, waiting by a group of trees, holding up a map to hide my face, and acting like a tourist.
A group of people walked off the ferry who all appeared to be together. They moved toward the small museum that was housed on the island. One person—a woman—stepped out of the group and started to make her way up the path that led directly to the lighthouse overlooking Penobscot Bay. She had a hood on, so I couldn’t see the color of her hair or her face, since she was looking down at her feet.
Something about her was familiar, so I kept my eyes on her instead of looking back at the small stream of people still disembarking from the ferry. January wasn’t a busy time of year, but there were still a few brave souls who came over to visit the lighthouse and the museum.
I pulled my hat down some and started to walk in the general direction of the woman while making it seem like I was going to take another path. Her pace picked up as she drew farther away from the group, and I narrowed my eyes as I watched her.
What was the pull that made me follow this one woman? Maybe it was just because Ms. Seaside was a woman—or so I thought.
Glancing behind me, I saw another small group of people making their way toward the lighthouse. They were close, so if she looked behind her, I was hoping she would think I’d simply pulled ahead of the group I was with, and that I wasn’t actually following her.