Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
“I’ll pass. Here you go.” She peeled the cat off her chest and held it out for him to take.
Shaking his head at her, he took a step back and nearly slid down the slope. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t keep him. I’m staying at the hotel.”
“You don’t live here?”
“Not until I find an apartment.”
“I’m only visiting. I can’t take a cat back to where I’m staying.”
“You don’t live here?”
“No, I’m only visiting until Christmas. Is there an animal shelter close by?”
“Yes, about three miles. Here.” Without giving him a choice, Megan thrust the cat into his arms. “There you go. Problem solved. It closes at five, or it used to. You should be going, or you’re going to be stuck with him for the night.”
Ignoring the cat’s beseeching eyes, she felt guilty. What did she know about taking care of cats? Hell, she barely managed to take care of herself. The cat was better off at a shelter than if she were responsible for it.
“You need me to write out the directions for the shelter?” Jumping the rest of way down the slope, she found her footing, turning to find him following more cautiously.
“No, thanks. My car has GPS.”
They walked next to each other to his car, where he paused before getting inside. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll be here until after Christmas. Would you want to go out for coffee while I’m in town?”
“I’m sure I’ll see you in town. Bye, Cole.”
Once upon a time, she would have jumped at a chance to have coffee with a man like Cole. Stupid shit would have come out of her mouth in a spat of word vomit, showing how stupid she was taking Cole up on the invitation so quickly that the stunning man would get whiplash. Half of the reason she was in Treepoint was to prove to herself that she was capable of making the right decisions. Going out with Cole, even for a friendly cup of coffee, wouldn’t be a smart decision. He was only going to be in town for a short time, and she had no clue how long she would decide to stay, or even if she had a future at all if The Last Riders came after her for retribution.
Restraint had never been her strong suit, but she was going to ignore the omg-he’s-so-freaking-cute her old self was screaming inside her head and get her ass back in the car before she changed her mind.
“I guess I’ll see you around, then. Goodbye, Megan.”
The disappointment in his eyes almost made her reconsider. With reluctant footsteps, she returned to her car.
Cole’s hand motioned out of his car window for her to go first.
“Dammit! He’s a gentleman, too.” Giving him a small wave as she drove past his vehicle, Megan knew she had made the best decision not only for herself but for Cole. She was actually doing him a favor.
How often had Curt told her she was worse than Typhoid Mary? He had been right … he had the proof … Curt was as dead as a doornail.
Now that she was away from Cole, her shoulders straightened. She had made the right decision. That dude was too magnificent to find himself in an early grave.
Three
Self-consciously, Megan drove, intermittently glancing in her rearview mirror at the vehicle driving behind. Flipping on her blinker, she made the turn into the hotel lot, unable to resist a final glance at the white SUV before finding an empty spot in front of the office. As she got out of the car, a growling sound came from her stomach. Her appetite had been non-existent as she had traveled to Treepoint. Yet, judging by the prolonged grumbling sounds, it seemed it was back.
Her hunger evaporated again, though, when she saw who was behind the counter, talking on her cell phone.
Pretending not to recognize the woman she had gone to high school with, Megan stepped up to the counter. “I have a room reserved.”
Putting the cell phone down, the hotel clerk gave her a critical stare. Megan felt more judged than when she had been discussed by a panel of mental health experts for her evaluation.
“Name?”
“Megan Smith.”
Chelsea’s lips pursed in disapproval. “Don’t you mean Megan Dawkins?”
Megan didn’t flinch at the insulting way her former classmate spoke to her.
“The reservation is under Megan Smith,” she said without infliction. Megan would be damned if she was going to give Chelsea something to gossip about other than she was back in town.
Chelsea made no attempt to key the information into the computer, and Megan was treated to her expression turning even more pinched. “I thought you were still in prison.”
“I was never in prison,” Megan corrected the mistaken belief she was sure had been swirled around the town gossip mill.