Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Fuck.
It was rich, savory, and seasoned as if it’d been made by a person who cooked with soul and love. Not in a high-end restaurant by a chef who served a two-ounce portion of food abed an over-the-top garnish to post on Instagram, not really for consumption.
Royal cleaned the plate.
He fell into bed, laid his head on the freshly fluffed pillow and was out in seconds.
When he woke, the sun was reflecting off the snow, creating a light so brilliant it blinded him.
Now he understood the need for the heavy drapes. Tonight he’d remember to close them.
Royal grabbed his cell phone thinking he was late checking his emails and schedule.
His eyes almost bugged out of his head when he saw it was after nine.
Royal
Disoriented, he placed his phone back on the nightstand and stared at it, half expecting it to ping with the start of a zoom call. It’d been so silent he thought maybe it was broken.
Royal threw back the heavy quilt, groaning and stretching muscles that hadn’t been stretched in years.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and touched one hand to the back of his head where the dull ache had begun in a mind unfamiliar with rest.
He walked barefoot to the window and pulled back the lace curtain enough to take a peek. Everything was calm and peaceful. No bumper-to-bumper gridlock, nor cursing cab drivers, nothing but houses with smoke rising from their chimneys scattered over the hills in the distance.
“What do I do now?”
Do I…do I just go downstairs?
Without a staff member telling him what to do next, Royal was forced to face a morning with no agenda.
He dressed in a crème button-down shirt, black slacks, and his leather boots. He wrapped his ivory, cashmere scarf around his neck and pulled his Dolce & Gabbana knee-length trench from his garment bag.
Royal’s room didn’t have an electronic scan pad, so he simply closed the door behind him. It felt strange leaving his possessions unsecure, but he had a feeling the bed and breakfast didn’t have a big theft problem.
He walked down the narrow hallway, decorated with framed black and white photographs of the town’s history. Images of smiling faces, children playing, men and women building and working the land seemed like scenes from a movie.
Royal was halfway down the stairs when the sound of a voice made him stop mid-stride.
Deep, gravelly and melancholy—the kind of deep voice that reached into the marrow of his bones. But it wasn’t just the tone, there was a presence behind it, hardened and solid.
The words spoken were simple, sounding like a basic transaction, a discussion about an order.
It was as if the owner of that voice wasn’t even trying to be heard and the sheer tone of it made Royal want to get closer and listen.
So he did just that.
Unable to resist another second, he took a few more steps and peered around the railing into the lobby.
The person standing at the check-in desk was a mountain of a man. Every inch of him seemed carved and sculpted. His thick black hair was streaked with silver framing a weathered face, with a heavy salt and pepper colored beard. His rugged handsomeness indicated he wasn’t a stranger to outdoor work.
Royal’s heart flipped, all nervous and jittery.
He’d never been one to gape at men, but this, him…he was different. And it wasn’t only the man’s size, though he was huge. It wasn’t so much his look—but fuck!
It was his stillness.
Royal flexed his fingers around the railing, struggling to get his feet moving.
He didn’t recognize the woman at the desk because most of her body was hidden behind it. She was very short, young, with a jet-black sharp bob haircut, which was a startling contrast to her scarlet-red lipstick.
She spoke to the man with a kind of familiarity, smiling at whatever he was describing.
The man ducked his head and scribbled something on a slip of paper and slid it over to her.
“I can have it by the end of the month.”
“Thanks Stone. You know I don’t mind waiting on your work.”
Stone. That can’t be—
Royal had been staring so hard he didn’t realize the girl’s attention had shifted to him.
“Oh hi!” she greeted cheerfully. “There you are. I was wondering if you were gonna come down. You’re Royal, right?”
Royal almost stumbled over the last five steps at being caught. He hurried and straightened his spine and descended the stairs.
Their gazes held as the girl behind the counter continued talking.
“I’m Jojo. Mrs. Pearl’s niece, she told me to take particularly good care of you, and that you are our special guest.”
Royal swallowed hard. “Oh, I uh…that’s not necessary.”
“Well we all trust my auntie’s judgment of character in this town, and she was more than adamant with her instructions.”
Royal had to avert his gaze from Stone’s penetrating glare. It was too strong, too deep, as if he was seeing clear through him.