Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
He wasn’t that same impulsive, bratty, insecure eighteen-year-old he’d been when I left. Well, he was still impulsive, but he was also stronger, more confident, and yeah, the years had been good to him. His beautiful chocolate-brown hair hung into his eyes, making him keep pushing it back. He had sharp cheekbones, almost like they’d been chiseled, but in a strangely soft way. It all complemented those green eyes of his that always looked like they held secrets inside of them.
He had long, sinewy muscles, a swimmer’s body, but as far as I knew, Kellan wasn’t a swimmer. Hell, he’d hated any and all sports when he was younger, but that didn’t mean he still did. He was…fuck, he was sexy as hell, and yeah, I had to nix those thoughts the fuck out of my head and quickly.
“Hey, Chase? We need you to go out to the Chapmans’ place on Mills Pond Road. You remember where it is, or do you need an address?” Daphne asked. She worked dispatch in our small station that consisted of a whopping six officers. This hadn’t been what I’d had in mind when I’d gone into law enforcement, but then I figured it made sense—being back here, coupled with why I became an officer in the first place.
“I remember it. They still fight like they used to?” I pushed out of my chair.
“Always. Don’t know why the two of them are still together after all these years, though I guess they’re perfect for each other.” Daphne chuckled.
“I’ll take care of it.” I went straight out to the cruiser. It only took eight minutes to get out to the Chapmans’ place. They lived on an acre of land, which meant there was no one around to hear whatever squabble they were into this time. It was always one of them who called the station on the other. It had been that way for as long as I could remember. When we were kids, sometimes we’d play games where we dared each other to provoke them into an argument over something. Not something I was proud of, but that’s the way it was.
As soon as I parked in front of their small, white farmhouse, Mrs. Chapman came running out. “Finally! Took you long enough. He let Tootsie out, and she’s gone! He did it on purpose. He’s always hated my dog.”
“Ah, hell, woman. You called the police. They have more important things to worry about than your crazy dog,” Mr. Chapman replied.
“See! See what I mean! He hates her, and she’s gone. He put her out without making sure the back gate was closed, and I was busy making her dinner.”
“Her dinner, not mine, of course. She cooks that dog a three-course meal and feeds her at the table! What kind of dog eats at the table?”
“One who loves me more than you do!” Mrs. Chapman threw back at him.
“Okay, I’m gonna need you both to calm down for a minute, okay?” Christ, I was already frustrated.
Two pair of eyes trained my way, as if they really paid attention to me for the first time. “Chase Hawthorne, is that you? I heard you were back in town. Look at you! All grown up.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Now, if you’ll do me a favor and arrest my husband so I can look for Tootsie, I’d appreciate it.”
I bit back a laugh, but before I could ask what I was supposed to arrest Mr. Chapman for, he did it himself. “What is he arresting me for? Letting the dog out to pee?”
“You did it on purpose!” The two of them started yelling at each other again.
“That’s enough,” I interrupted. “Did Mr. Chapman do anything to hurt you?” They’d never laid a hand on each other, at least not as of ten years ago, but I had to be sure.
“What? No, why would he do that?” Mrs. Chapman asked.
I ignored her and turned to him. “Did Mrs. Chapman do anything to hurt you?”
“Other than love that dog more than me?”
“I’m sure that’s not true. She loves you very much.”
“You think I love Tootsie more than you?” Mrs. Chapman asked.
Her husband’s eyes darted toward the ground, his cheeks going pink. “Sometimes…but I didn’t know the gate was open. Come on, honey, you know me better than that.”
“It sounds like an accident to me, and like maybe the two of you need to talk a little bit. Maybe do something special just the two of you, without Tootsie.” Christ on a cracker, I couldn’t believe I was telling a grown-ass couple they needed a night out without their dog.
“I…I’d like that,” Mrs. Chapman told him.
“I’d like that too,” he replied.
Just then a Yorkie came running at me, barking like crazy and nipping at my ankles.
“Tootsie! You’re home!” She swooped the dog into her arms, and then the two of them were hugging and baby-talking to the dog, before they went inside like I wasn’t even there.