Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Wow.” Holden’s eyes were wide, and he swallowed hard.
“Sorry. I…guess I kind of got going there.”
“Don’t apologize. Not for talking and never for your feelings. And you had a point. My thing wasn’t at all the same, and I should have known better than to try to compare.”
“Nah. You’re okay.” Suddenly, I was dog-dead tired. I sank farther into the cushy couch. “It’s not like anyone knew. What I said right there? That’s more than anyone else has ever heard from me. Must be that investigator gene in you because hell if I even let myself think the word crush around anyone else. For all the world knows, Evan was my best friend, end of story.”
“Or the start of one.” Holden leveled me with that intense stare of his. And maybe he wasn’t wrong. Ev’s story had ended while mine, improbably, had marched along.
“Yeah.” Like it or not, all those painful, confusing feelings were indeed part of the tale.
“Well, I’m humbled that you shared. Truly.” Holden scooted closer in his chair like he was about to touch me. And I might crumble to dust if he did, so I quickly stood, ignoring the protest in my muscles.
“Thanks.” Sidestepping him, I headed to the opposite side of the living area, where a hallway led farther into the house. “What’s this way?”
“Oh, the tour. Yes. Sorry.” Recovering admirably from my abrupt shift, Holden rolled after me to point out various doors. “My office. My bedroom is the door at the far end of the hall. This is the linen closet, and I’m grabbing you a few extra pillows.”
“Only need one. If that,” I scoffed as he retrieved an unnecessary stack of three and placed them in his lap.
“Yeah, yeah, you SEALs eat gravel for breakfast and use cacti for pillows.” He rolled his eyes at me. “But you had a significant neck injury, and every time you move, you wince. Hell, I’m tired simply from looking at you. Unless I can convince you to take those pain meds the doctor prescribed, pillows are your ticket to finding a viable napping position.”
“What is it with everyone thinking I need a nap?” I groaned as he continued past the linen closet to open another door.
“Because we’re worried you’re about to topple over? And long gone are the days when I could haul your ass up. No, you fall, and I’ll have to call 911. That army captain Dr. Washington will not be amused if you show up again on her watch with a lump on your head.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but Holden continued on as if I hadn’t lodged a protest.
“And this is the guestroom.” He swept an arm around the space, which was cozy in a grownup sort of way. Tan walls with dark-green wainscotting. Desk with a lamp and comfortable-looking chair in the corner. A sturdy double bed with a carved wooden headboard and footboard draped in a plaid quilt. And two pillows already there, both in covers with moose on them. “Feel free to move furniture, bring your stuff in from the RV, etc. Make it yours. Marley had maps of the world all over. Before her, Greg had video game posters and black lights. He works for a big gaming franchise now, so his obsessions paid off. I went for something more neutral, but you won’t hurt my feelings if you change it.”
“It’s nice. I like the green.” I ventured into the room, exhaling like I might be staying a minute. “Like old-school camping vibes.”
“Was that a compliment? From you?” Holden hung out in the doorway.
“I do have manners. Somewhere. And this is nice. Reminds me of fishing trips with my dad and then later Ev and his family.”
“Your family must have been proud when you made the SEALs.”
“For an investigator, you’re not very subtle.” My head felt way heavier than usual as I perched on the edge of the bed. “Dad died on a deployment. Shipboard accident. Mom and I went to stay with her folks, but she drowned her grief in a bottle. Passed a few years later of chronic pancreatitis. Not much family left, but you likely figured that out already.”
“I won’t say sorry or offer condolences because I know firsthand how hollow those sound. My dad died when I was in my early teens, leaving Mom to raise the three of us.” Holden’s eyes were soft and distant. “Younger two were little more than toddlers. I helped where I could, but it wasn’t easy on any of us. Fuck. And there I go again, sharing my shit like that’s any help.”
“I get it. You’re a born storyteller. Probably why you’re such a damn good professor and podcaster.”
“You’ve heard my podcast?” Holden grinned so wide I saw the back of his pearly white teeth.
“Your ego that in need of stroking?”