Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“She never remarried?”
“No. Between raising me, running her salon, she was busy. I remember her going on a few dates, but no one special.”
“She owns a salon?”
“She did. The building was sold, so she closed it. Now she works at another place. She says she likes working for someone, not being the boss all the time with all the worry.”
“How old were you when your dad died?”
“Seven.” She swallowed. “He was a great dad. I remember his hugs and snuggles. His booming laugh. The way he would dance with my mom in the kitchen. I got his eyes and her freckles.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said before I could stop myself.
She blushed. “Thanks.” She looked over my shoulder. “He was a cop. He was on a regular traffic stop, and the driver was carrying drugs. He panicked and shot my dad.”
“Shit. How awful.” I frowned. “How did your mom feel when you decided to become one?”
“She wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t surprised either. I always wanted to be a cop.”
“What made you leave Toronto?” I asked. “I mean, with your mom and your life there, moving here to a small city must have been a shock.”
It was as if the shutters came down. Her face paled, and her shoulders stiffened. “More room for advancement,” she replied.
She was lying. Everything about her suddenly screamed panic. Wariness. And for me to back off.
I stood. “Well, I wish you luck with that. I’m off to bed.”
She blew out a long breath. “Night, Chase.”
I left, pausing at the door. I glanced over my shoulder. She remained at the table, staring at her soda. I wanted to go back to her, to drag her into my arms and ask her what really happened. To get her to tell me if her reasons for leaving Toronto had something to do with her nightmares, but I didn’t have that right. If she wanted to tell me, she could have.
But we were only roommates. Buddies.
I had to remember that.
She had another nightmare in the night, and I did the same as usual. Slipped in and comforted her then left her alone. At first, I was determined to ignore her, but her cries were stringent. Louder. I couldn’t shut out her pain. She grasped my hand as I stroked her hair, and for a moment, I thought she’d woken up, but she remained asleep, holding my hand, her breathing evening out again. I hated leaving her. But I had to.
I was restless and gave up at dawn, getting off the bed in the middle of the room and beginning to paint. I finished my room, opened the windows to let in fresh air, then grabbed a shower and left when I heard her shower come on. I needed the space.
I pushed aside the thoughts of wondering how I was supposed to remain aloof and friendly.
Cursing the day I had put up the ad. Impulsively bought the house.
I should have just moved back into the apartment over the garage and saved myself the heartache.
I was an idiot.
To make matters worse, I already knew I was going to keep being an idiot.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
CHAPTER NINE
Hannah
I was surprised to see that Chase had gone out when I got up the next morning. I was even more surprised when I saw his door open and that he had already done the second coat on the walls. The paint stuff was all cleaned up, the brushes soaking, the roller covered in case it was needed.
I frowned as I made a coffee then sat at the table. I wondered if he was out for the day or just on an errand. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me that he hadn’t said anything or left a note. It wasn’t as if we were a couple. We were roommates—except I thought perhaps we were already closer than that.
Maybe I had misread the signals? Chase was affectionate with Charly, Gabby, and the kids. He offered and accepted hugs and kisses all the time. Maybe he simply added me to that category. But I was sure I had seen the flare of interest, more than once. Felt his lips linger longer than just a fast, friendly kiss.
Had I misinterpreted that?
I shook my head as I took a sip of coffee. I was tired today. I’d had bad dreams last night. Fractured images of bad memories. It happened often when I talked about Toronto or my dad. I frowned as another memory surfaced. An indistinct, blurry one. A quiet voice murmuring my name, assuring me I was safe. A gentle touch that soothed and eased my fears. It had to be another dream, yet it felt real. But how could that be?
I pushed my hair off my face and finished my coffee. I had no idea what Chase’s plans were today, but I knew what mine were. And I was determined to get them done.