Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Lucie studied the photo. They were on a beach somewhere. He was in a shirt and shorts while she wore a short white dress. Was it their wedding day? She picked it up to take a closer look.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
She jumped, then watched in horror as the photo frame slipped from her fingers and smashed to the ground, shattering.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
She crouched down, feeling like she was going to vomit. She reached out to touch a piece of the broken frame. “I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it. I swear. I’m sorry.”
“Just leave it.”
She flinched at the harshness in his voice.
“I can fix it.”
“Leave it. Please.” The please was said in a tense voice. She stood and took a step back.
“I’m so sorry, Atticus.”
He nodded, staring down at the frame. A muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Was it . . . was she . . .”
“My wife,” he replied stiffly. “Gemma.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Was,” he told her, not meeting her gaze. “She died three years ago. Car crash.”
“I’m so sorry.” She moved towards him, intending to touch him, but he stepped away from her.
The rejection hit her hard, but it was no less than she deserved. Here, he’d taken her into his house, looked after her, and what had she done? Snooped around, brought up painful memories, and smashed the photo frame that held a photo of his beloved wife.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I think I should go home.”
He nodded. She let out a deep breath. Right. Time to go back home. She stared at him for a moment as he crouched over the broken frame.
And she just knew that any friendship they’d started to build had broken as well.
6
“Lucie, you look like fucking shit,” Charlotte told her.
It usually made her giggle when Charlotte swore in her posh-sounding accent. Today, though, all she managed was a small smile.
“Is this about that broken photo frame? It was an accident, honey.”
“I still feel bad.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. You baked him muffins, and you made him a new frame. You didn’t mean to do it. Anyway, he sounds like a bit of a jerk.”
Charlotte never met Atticus when she sold him the cabin. Her real-estate agent handled everything.
“He’s not a jerk. He looked after me while I was sick. He fixed the lock on my back door. Three days ago, I got home from town and found that my woodshed was magically full, and he even stacked some logs on my porch. Yesterday, Gary came over and serviced my generator. He said Atticus had sent him and that he’d already paid for it. He’s a good guy, Charlotte.”
She’d thought about going over to thank him, but had chickened out. She wasn’t sure why he’d done those nice things for her. Perhaps she should bake him some more muffins.
Charlotte gave her a skeptical look. “Yes, those things all sound nice, but how much do you even know about him? What does he do for a living?”
Lucie shrugged. “I’m not sure, but Rocky knows him so he can’t be a bad person.”
“I’m worried about you. Are you eating properly? Sleeping?”
“I’m fine.”
Charlotte frowned. “Aren’t you taking this harder than you should? He’s just your neighbor. Sure, it would be nice to get on with him, but it’s not as though you like him or anything.”
She cringed.
“Oh, Lucie, don’t tell me you have a crush on Sir Grouch-a-lot.”
“Maybe just a bit,” she admitted. “Also, I’m pretty sure I told him about that nickname.” She’d remembered a lot more of their conversations once her head cleared.
“Crap.”
She made a face. “Can you blame him for avoiding me? Not only did I break something he obviously cherished, but I also told him I was a Little and called him Daddy.”
“Hey, don’t feel so bad. Boyfriend number five wanted me to call him Daddy in bed. The sex was hot as fuck.”
“It’s not exactly the same, Charlotte.”
“I know.”
Was he a Daddy Dom? What were the odds that a gorgeous, sexy Daddy Dom would move next door and want absolutely nothing to do with her?
Fate, or whoever, was undoubtedly having a laugh at her expense. Why her? She was kind. She always helped someone when they asked her. She donated any spare cash she had. Which wasn’t much.
In a past life, she’d obviously done something wrong.
“Come stay with me,” Charlotte said impulsively.
She smiled at her friend. “I miss you so much.”
“Yeah, which means you should come to visit.”
“Are you sending over your broomstick?” she teased.
“Bitch, for you, I’ll send the flying carpet.”
Lucie giggled. It was the first time she could remember laughing all week. “I’m fine, Char. I’ll be all right.”
“Of course you will. You’re Lucie. You’re always all right. I’ve never seen you go more than an hour without smiling.”
Sometimes, it was tiring always being cheerful, though. Always trying to see the bright side. But she forced a smile on her face for Charlotte. She had enough going on, and Lucie didn’t want to worry her.