Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Thankfully, there is one. I fire off a few texts to get everything rolling. I don’t need to pack. I had a cabin built on my parents’ land a few years ago.
“Get back to work,” I tell Blu, standing from my desk.
“You all right, man?”
“Fine.” The one word comes out gruff. I clear my throat. The hell is wrong with me? “I’ll be out for a few days,” I tell Tiff as I pass her desk.
“Where are you going?” She jumps up, panicked. I can hear her mind trying to shuffle through whatever shit I have on my schedule right now.
“Home.”
“Home?” she repeats like she doesn’t understand the word.
“Don’t let the Woods family know we’ve located their daughter,” I tell her, stepping onto the elevator.
“But, sir!” The doors start to slide closed. “Jack!”
“Paisley Woods.” I say her name for the first time, loving the way it rolls off my tongue.
She won’t be a runaway for long. Soon she’ll be mine.
2
PAISLEY
“You want to tell me why there’s a giant-ass cat on my bar?” I let out a small squeal of surprise, spinning around. The two cups and three shots fly off my tray and onto the floor.
“You scared the crap out of me, Cole!” Heat rushes to my cheeks with embarrassment.
“The hell are you doing?” He grabs a broom to sweep up the two shattered glasses. The shot glasses survived the fall.
“I was practicing.” I bend down and grab the shot glasses. I’ve been working at Backwoods Brew for almost two weeks now. I never realized what a talent it was to balance a tray full of drinks. It doesn’t help that I have two left feet. At least that’s what my mother always said.
“Just carry it with two hands. You’ll be all right.” He sweeps up the glass.
“I’m sorry. I’ll replace them.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks.” I give Tigger a few pets on his head.
“That’s a health code violation.” He motions toward my cat.
“We’re not open.” I don’t mention that I think a few things around here are health code violations. I saw the cook and one of the servers going at it in the kitchen a few days ago.
Cole checks his watch. It’s going to be a busy night. This is the only bar in Cottonwood, and it’s a Friday night. Which means dollar shots for the ladies. That always brings in a whole lot of Army men.
“How was your date?”
“Shit.” He grumbles. “Could have been out with you.” Cole gives me a wink. I roll my eyes. He could flirt with a brick wall. Still, it’s nice to have someone flirt with you. I’m not used to it.
“June told me that you only got out of a serious relationship a few months ago.” June knows everything when it comes to Cottonwood.
“Don’t remind me of my ex.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “We were only together for a few months.” June had said that too, but Cole never dated anyone more than a week, so a few months was a lot in his world. I wish I could do that. Put myself out there.
“Why’d you break up?”
“She cheated on me with a guy who said he could control fire with his mind.” I burst into laughter. Cole doesn't join me. I guess it’s still a sore spot.
“Oh my. You’re serious?” I try to hold my giggles back, but it’s hard.
“Get the cat and go change.”
I grab Tigger off the bar, putting him into my oversized tote. He seems to be adapting to our new not-so-glamorous life. Same as I am.
“How much does that thing weigh? You’re going to fall over carrying it around.”
“It has a name. He’s about twenty-five pounds, but that’s normal!” I get defensive. My mother always made jokes about my weight. I’d never do that to Tigger. “He’s a Maine Coon. They’re big.”
“He looks like a damn mini lion.”
“That’s why I named him Tigger.” He shakes his head at me.
“Go change,” he orders me.
I make my way across the gravel parking lot, running across the road to the motel that sits directly across from the bar. Once there, I head to my room.
“Home sweet home.” I sigh, putting Tigger down on the bed. “How times have changed.” Tigger circles around on the bed, finding a comfortable spot. “I’ll find us a place soon.” I scratch under his chin.
My motel room is smaller than my old closet at home. Though it never felt like home. I don’t mind the size. I spent most of my life living in dorm rooms. They were small.
If my mother saw this motel room, she’d die. I’ll admit the sheets are kinda scratchy and the decor is from the later '90s. I tried to spruce it up with some flowers and a few pillows and a fluffy throw blanket, but that can only go so far. It’s not perfect, but I feel more at home here than I have ever at my parents’.