Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
“Damn, did she send you an invite? Cause you’re smiling like it’s Christmas morning,” Caleb teases me.
“Fuck off,” I grumble, but show him the pic.
“That cat again?” he looks at me like I’ve grown another head.
“He visits her office every morning and night,” I say. “It’s a part of her life.”
“And you still don’t have a clue what kind of an office it is? Is she a vet?”
I tilt my head. “I don’t think so. She’d probably send more pics of animals if she was.” I grin down at the phone again.
“Dude, just give me her number and I can track her down for you. You’re losing it over this girl.”
“Never,” I say, typing back a quick text, telling her to give the cat an extra treat for me. “If she wants to meet me, she’ll let me know.”
Caleb whistles. “Whatever you say,” he says, walking across the empty nightclub. “Have fun on assignment, don’t bring home a cat.”
“This isn’t home!” I call after him.
“Like hell it isn’t!” he fires back, and I laugh, shaking my head as he disappears into the stock room.
I finish familiarizing myself with everything the senator sent over before saying goodbye to Caleb.
It's an hour drive to Sweet Water, and I pull into the parking lot where Senator Casson’s daughter, Dr. Zoe Casson, has her own practice.
I park and give myself a minute to check out the space, noting the damn-near ancient camera that sits at an awkward angle above the front entryway door. The parking lot is empty save for one car and mine.
Maybe she didn’t schedule a client this early in the morning because she knows I’m coming, or maybe her first client is running late. Either way, I’m getting a good look at the space, and gathering a baseline of what it looks like before clients roll in.
I head toward the front door, giving the camera a better look and shaking my head. I know the brand and know getting visuals from it is nearly impossible thanks to the ancient technology it runs off of. I'll have to fix that.
I push through the front door and a soft bell chimes to alert my presence.
The entryway is warm and welcoming, but there are two large bay windows to my right, overlooking a patio which looks strangely familiar. I could literally break into the building from there with my eyes closed. I'll have to fix that too—
“Good morning,” a familiar feminine voice calls out to me before someone rounds the corner, hand outstretched, a welcoming smile shaping luscious lips that I’d know in my sleep.
Kitten.
A bolt of shock rockets through me, my entire body clenching. Jesus, it’s her.
The feline mask she’d worn that night had only covered half her face, but I’d recognize the sound of her voice anywhere. I’d replayed that voice moaning my name more than a few times before, not to mention I could never forget those rich dark eyes.
“I'm Dr. Casson,” she says as I take her hand, my mind spiraling. Fucking hell, it’s her. She has a stalker? The urge to crush that motherfucker roars to life beneath my skin, and it’s all I can do to shove the possessive instinct down. “You must be Mr. Thatcher?” she continues. “You’re my first appointment of the day. It’s so good to finally meet you.”
I can't form a single coherent word as my heart pounds in my chest, my mind trying to reconcile the fact that my new assignment and the dream girl I've been texting for the past two months are the same person.
She drops my hand and spins around, motioning for me to follow her. “Come on back and get settled and we can get to know each other,” she says as I follow her into her office. The space is cozy with bookshelf-lined walls and rich leather armchairs situated in front of her desk, which is neat and tidy. She settles into her own chair behind the desk as I take one of the leather ones opposite it. Her rich brown eyes are open and caring and completely oblivious to who I am.
“So, Mr. Thatcher,” she says, looking at her tablet before glancing back at me. “It says here that you wanted to meet with me regarding a recent divorce. Is that correct?”
“No,” I say, still trying to figure out how best to tell her who I am.
The most adorable little crinkle forms between her brows as she double-checks her notes.
“I'm sorry, I must’ve made a mistake. I swore that's what you said over the phone—”
The bell to her office chimes again, and she tilts her head. “If you'll excuse me one moment, I'm expecting someone, but I'll be right back once I tell him where to settle in.”
She hurries out of the office, looking absolutely delectable in her blue blouse, black skirt, and black pumps combo. It takes me a few seconds before I stop admiring how damn beautiful she is and get up to follow her.