Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Morbid curiosity filled me as I read the article under the news video. Something familiar scraped across my brain at the pattern Sarah noted. I wondered if similar murders had happened in the past and if this was a copycat killer. Unsurprisingly, I read a lot of true crime, so it was quite possible it was stuck in my memory bank somewhere.
“Always the detective, little mouse. Now come. We have our own serial killer to get to grips with.”
She nodded and slipped off the couch’s arm, her silken hair, the color of wheat, falling over her face. I’d never seen or felt softer hair. I studied her as she walked past me and slipped gracefully into her desk chair. Her cardigan fell off her shoulder, revealing an expanse of creamy pale skin. Golden freckles sprinkled her petite shoulder, which told me she’d walked in the sun a lot during the summer. Everything about Sarah was soft, silky, and graceful. I hadn’t lied to her when I’d told her she was rather beautiful. It just continually surprised me because … well, how had I missed how attractive she was?
Strolling past her, I took a seat at the narrow desk I’d moved from the guest room. To take advantage of the view from the front window, I’d abutted the second desk against Sarah’s, which meant we were sitting quite intimately.
She wrinkled her nose adorably as she glanced between my desk and hers.
My lips twitched at her obvious perturbance. “What?”
“Nothing.” She pulled out her laptop and opened it.
“Am I too close to you, darling? Invading your personal space?”
Sarah shook her head a little too vehemently. “No, it’s fine.”
“I can move,” I pushed, enjoying her discomfort more than I should.
“I said it’s fine.” She smiled, but it had a bite. That only amused me more.
Letting it go because I knew she was too damn polite to demand I move, I opened my laptop. While Sarah was sick, I’d begun making notes, highlighting the copy of the book she’d given me with scenes I wanted to incorporate into the script.
Scripts were an entirely different beast from novels, and I had to hope that Sarah wouldn’t get too hung up on the fact that it was more difficult to understand the nuance of a scene when it was only written in dialogue and basic actions.
A few hours later, Sarah pulled me from my deep thoughts to announce she’d finished her chapter for the day. Taken aback to realize how much time had passed, and how easily we’d worked in each other’s presence, I looked up from my laptop to stare out at the Highland loch beyond.
“Well?”
At her question, I dragged my gaze from the view. “Well, what?”
She shrugged and gestured to my laptop. “I was so into my work I don’t know how you’re getting on.”
“Good.” And it had been. No writer’s block. “I’ve finished the first scene. Why don’t we have lunch and then you can read it?”
Her expression was filled with curiosity as she stared at my screen. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly.
I tried not to laugh at how much she clearly wanted to read it now. “Food first,” I insisted. While she might be better, she was still only a few days into her recovery and needed fuel. “Let’s eat out. I fancy that little burger place down by the water.”
“Burger place?” She frowned.
“Yes. You haven’t seen it.” I explained where I’d seen the sign.
“Oh, I hadn’t noticed. Someone else must have bought that restaurant. It used to be a wee café.”
“Let’s try it, then.”
Sarah eyed me. For someone so shy with everyone else, she had a way of looking unwaveringly at me that unnerved me a little. Like she was peeling back my layers. And I didn’t want anyone peeling back my layers, thank you very much. I didn’t have many. I was almost entirely layerless. Deliberately so.
“Okay,” she finally agreed with a shrug.
I tried not to take offense to the fact that she was so underwhelmed at the thought of dining with me. Women usually loved eating out with me. Well … they loved me eating them out. An image of Sarah lying flushed and naked with my head between her thighs rose out of nowhere, and I jumped out of my desk chair like the action might shove the image right back out of my head.
There would be none of that between me and the little mouse. I had rules against mixing business with pleasure.
I salivated over my bacon burger while Sarah ate a small portion of mac and cheese. I thought about the scene I’d written and how complex Sarah’s characters were. It was important to me that I translated the characters perfectly because there was no improving on them.
A tourist walked in as I mused and Sarah looked up. Her cheeks immediately flushed bright red, and I shot the tourist a look. It was a younger fella, handsome, rugged, outdoorsy type, and he was smiling invitingly at my lunch companion.