Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“She was a worthy opponent,” I reply with a wink.
“She tossed the cooler back at you when you tried to give it to her.”
“And that’s why she’s worthy. No one wants their adversary to give them charity. But don’t worry, I’ll buy her a better one, and we’ll all be happy.”
Luna sighs and leans her head back on the seat. “It was all so much fun.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I reply and reach over to squeeze her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. You know, you could easily host parties like that—not Halloween, of course, because Annabelle definitely has the market covered on that one—but maybe a holiday party at the B&B.”
“I know,” she says with a giddy smile. “I already plan to decorate the inside and outside of the B&B and lighthouse with amazing lights and garlands for the holidays, and I want to host a holiday party for the town. I can’t wait for next year.”
As I drive up to the house, Luna sits up straight in her seat and gasps.
“What’s wrong?”
“The light’s out.” She’s out of the car before I even come to a complete stop and racing through the storm to the door of the lighthouse. By the time I get to her, she has unlocked the door and is climbing the steps, taking two at a time, leaving puddles of water behind her.
Except on the racetrack, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move so fast.
“This has never happened,” she explains as we reach the top, and she takes a minute to catch her breath. She flips on a light and starts digging around in the lens while writing notes on a pad and murmuring to herself. “These bulbs were designed to last decades. I believe the last time it was changed was in the 1950s.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. They also don’t make bulbs like this anymore. They’re much smaller now but should last just as long. I have a changer installed that should have automatically switched from the burned-out bulb to the new one. I don’t know why it failed.”
She’s bustling about, checking things, and I feel helpless.
“How do I help?”
“Hold your phone’s flashlight over here so I can see better. Of course, this happened at night.”
“Can it wait for morning?”
“You don’t understand,” she says quickly, “this is an operating lighthouse. It could be catastrophic for ships that use the light as a guide to navigate up and down the western coastline. As it is, I don’t know how long it’s been out. I have to fix it. Right now.”
“Okay, we’ll fix it.”
She tugs her cape off and lets it fall to the floor out of her way. She’s wearing gloves, likely because of the heat coming off the old bulb, and I stay quiet as she does her job.
Her hands are steady.
Her eyes are full of confidence and determination.
God, she’s fucking amazing.
“Close your eyes, this will be bright,” she warns me, and I follow the order just before the light illuminates again. “Thank God.”
“Now what?” I ask her.
“Now, I make a couple of quick phone calls to the Coast Guard to let them know that it’s been fixed, and then, first thing in the morning, I’ll be calling the manufacturer of this supposedly high-tech bulb changer to find out what in the hell happened.”
She pulls out her phone and taps the screen.
“Hello, this is Luna Winchester.”
I listen to her give the pertinent information to the person on the other end of the line, and when she hangs up, I simply pin her against the wall in the cramped space and kiss the fuck out of her.
The storm rages outside, hurling water against the windows. The building creeks and seems to move with the wind.
It’s damn creepy on a stormy night like this, but I don’t care.
All I can think about is getting my hands on her.
“As sexy as this is,” she says when I move down to her neck. “I can’t get over the fur all over you. We have to get that off, Wolfe.”
I laugh and kiss her forehead, then back away and pick up her cape.
“Can’t forget this.” I wiggle my extra-bushy eyebrows at her.
“Definitely not. Whew, that was an adrenaline rush.”
“So, that bulb hasn’t been replaced in roughly seventy years?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “We have replacement bulbs, of course, but according to the records, it’s never been changed. We’ve changed the lenses more often. Dad will be fascinated when I tell him about it.”
We walk down the steps, much slower than we climbed them.
“Does it always sound like this during storms?”
“Like it’s haunted?” she asks and turns to smile up at me. “Yeah. It used to creep me out as a kid.”
“It might creep me out a little now.”
She laughs. “I know that anything or anyone who might still be here, like Rose, isn’t going to hurt me. If anything, she looks out for me, so I’m not scared of the noises anymore. I love a good storm. It’s my favorite. I used to hate it when I was a kid because it meant that I couldn’t play up here or even outside with you. But now, I enjoy the sounds and the way the ocean looks.”