Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
That lasted a whole fourteen hours before I decided that she’d had long enough. I woke up and decided that I was going to find her so we can talk. Sure, I’m frustrated with her, but even more than that, I fucking miss the hell out of her.
I know she’s been at Luna’s inn quite a lot lately, helping to get the place ready for the wedding next week after Christmas. So, that’s where I head first. When I get there, June’s truck isn’t there, but I cut the engine anyway.
“Damn it all to hell,” I mutter as I get out and head inside to talk to Luna, who I find in the kitchen with Sarah and Mira.
“You have excellent timing,” Mira says, pulling a pan of something that smells delicious and sweet out of the oven. “I have fresh cinnamon rolls.”
“You know I can’t pass that up, but first”—I turn to my sister—“I need to know where June is.”
Luna blinks at me, turns to Sarah, who’s suddenly grinning, and then back to me.
“She left about twenty minutes ago. She’s at the chapel.”
I sigh, nod, and turn back to Mira. “Do you mind boxing two of those up to go?”
“You betcha.” Mira winks and reaches for a box. “Is everything okay with our June?”
“I’m going to figure that out today.” Glancing back at my sister, I take a breath. “I’m in love with her.”
“I know.” Luna smiles brightly and then hurries over to hug me. “And I’m so happy for you.”
“Don’t be quite yet. She’s not speaking to me.”
“She will,” Sarah says with way more confidence than I feel. “Take her those rolls and have a chat with her. You’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes and look at both women with suspicion. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Nothing.” Luna blows a raspberry and shakes her head.
“You’re doing that thing you do when you lie.”
“Whatever.” She shrugs, as tight-lipped as she’s always been when it comes to her friend. “Cinnamon rolls are her favorite. Go see her.”
I accept the box from Mira, who tugs on my sleeve, which is her silent demand that I bend down so she can kiss my cheek. She does, and before I can straighten, she whispers, “Don’t leave there until you have your answers.”
Then she pats my shoulder and goes back to work.
“Women are weird,” I mutter as I walk back out to my truck and head toward the chapel.
Sure enough, June’s truck is parked in front.
With the box of warm rolls in my hand, I walk up to the door and, finding it unlocked, let myself in.
“June?”
There’s no response to my call, so I walk farther inside and set the box on a stool by the kitchen island.
It looks great in here. Once the countertops are installed tomorrow and the last of the trim is nailed into place, the cleaning crew can come in and get it ready for June. Come hell or high water, my girl will be moved in before Christmas morning.
First, though, I have to find her and make sure she’s still my girl.
“June?” I call out again and poke my head into both bedrooms, the bathroom, and even the small office that June decided she wanted to add.
She’s not here.
“Where the hell did she go? Mudroom?” I check, but she’s not in there either. “Damn, this is a really nice room.”
Suddenly, I smell…roses.
It’s happened before while I was living at the lighthouse, and even once or twice while I was working at the inn, but I’d never smelled it in the chapel. Rose, the former owner of the lighthouse property, and my I-don’t-know-how many-times-great-grandmother, has always been around, but she’s never left the lighthouse.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I know that this is Rose.
“Okay, what are you telling me? Is something wrong?” The scent lightens, and when I walk back to the entrance to the kitchen, it’s gone altogether. “Okay, this way?”
I walk toward the basement steps, and the scent of roses grows overpowering.
“Shit, is June down there?”
I fling open the door and run down the stairs. The lights are on, and I know that she wouldn’t leave them on if she wasn’t down here.
The door to the mausoleum is closed, and I stand in the middle of the room, trying to calm my breathing so that I can listen. After a second, I hear a thump coming from the other side of the heavy door.
“June?”
“Help!” The cry is soft, barely audible, as I rush over and try to turn the knob, but it’s locked.
“Jesus, she locked herself in there.” I turn the lock, open the door, and a very hysterical June spills out into my arms.
“Oh, god.” She clings to me, sobbing into my chest. “Apollo.”
“Come on.”
“Get me the f-f-fuck out of here.”
“You got it, baby.” I lift her into my arms, cradling her against me as I walk through the empty basement and up the steps. The smell of roses is dissipating as I take her into the main house, but before I can set her down, she shakes her head violently.