Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I look at the clock and see that it’s almost eleven and I don’t know who is up. Instead, I send a text to Ethan, Casey, and Jacob.
Me: There is one busted light at the bar. Is there a camera feed?
My phone rings in my hand. I look down and see that it’s Jacob.
"Hey." I start my truck now.
"What do you mean the lights are busted?" Jacob asks right away, and I can hear rustling in the background.
"I was walking Amelia out of the bar, and I realized it was pitch black. She thought the lights were out, but when I went back and checked, I saw one busted. I can’t see the other one in the dark, but I’m going to come by tomorrow and change it."
"I told Beau that he should get cameras up," he says. "I’m going to call Casey tomorrow to see."
"While you are doing that, you should know that her garage password is one, two, three, four," I say, and he hisses out and groans.
"I thought she was joking," he says. "That kid is her mother’s daughter."
I smile because as much as I want to agree with him, I see a lot more of Jacob in her than I do Kallie. But I only know Kallie from a handful of times I’ve seen her at the barbecue. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asks, and my stomach burns when I think of the answer.
"I was going to stay in the truck," I say, "but Amelia said I could stay in her spare bedroom."
"If you don’t want to stay there," he says, "you can always come and stay with us."
I look down, the heat rising in my neck, and my stomach rises and falls. "You don’t have to do that."
"Please," he says. "Listen, Asher, I know you’ve just come into town, and I know you have a great job and position at the farm," he says, "but I’d like to talk to you about your options."
"My options?" I repeat the words, not sure what he means by this.
"You ever think of going into law enforcement?" he asks, and I tap the steering wheel. "I’d love to sit down with you and talk to you more about it."
"I …" I say. "I’d like that."
"Good," he says. "I’ll call you tomorrow to set up a time and place."
"Sounds good," I say and disconnect.
I need to grab my shit and leave, my head screams to me. I can’t stay here. It’s not right.
I close my eyes and put my head back. The phone in my hand vibrates, and when I look down, I see a text from Amelia.
Amelia: Got you a burger. It’s in the microwave. Good night.
"This is not good." I make my way over to her house even though I know I shouldn’t.
Chapter 8
Amelia
The smell of bacon makes me open one eye, and I think I’m dreaming. I’m on my side in the middle of my bed with four pillows all around me and the cover up to my eyes. I turn and slip my hand out of the hot cocoon, grabbing my phone and seeing it’s only six o’clock.
I groan and put my hands back under the cover and close my eyes. Why does it smell like bacon? I look over at my closed door and smell coffee. What the hell is going on right now? Is my mother here? My head is asking me all these questions, and I know I’m not going to fall back asleep and get those extra forty-five minutes.
Throwing the cover off me, I get up and see the sun is starting to come up. I walk into the kitchen, and I have to close one eye when I see all the lights on. Asher’s naked back is to me as he stands in front of the stove. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask, standing in the hallway that leads to the kitchen from my bedroom. "It’s six o’clock."
He looks over his shoulder, and I wish he really wouldn’t. His face has that sleepiness still on it, and his hair is sticking up in certain places, and his smirk just makes my stomach sink. This is not good. I should never have told him to come home with me. I mean, I didn’t really tell him to come with me. I told him he could use my guest bedroom, so there is a difference there. "I’m making you breakfast," he says, grabbing a cup of coffee from beside him on the counter and bringing it to his mouth. "The coffee is ready."
"Why?" It’s the only thing that can come to my mind, and he turns around and leans against the counter. I see his six-pack is on point, and I wonder what it would be like to be held by him. I picture it so clearly in my head, his arms around mine as I look up at him. It’s a picture I quickly erase before I give it a second thought. "Why are you cooking me breakfast at the ass crack of dawn?"