Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
As the first leg of this journey I’d undertaken without giving it much thought, this was off to a good start. Any residual doubts I may have had were fast disappearing.
Here I could lose myself in the natural beauty of my surroundings. Here I could leave all the ugliness behind. Here my days will be filled with this immense beauty that seemed untouched by the outside world.
I don’t know how long I stood there taking it all in but I know it couldn’t have been that long though it felt like it. Closing my eyes I took in the scents and sounds that seemed to speak to something inside me.
That sense of calmness enveloped me again and I wrapped my arms around myself, patting myself on the back, almost giddy with excitement.
I felt real joy, genuine happiness for the first time in too long and was beginning to congratulate myself on a job well done when I was brought rudely back to earth. “Who the hell are you?”
I turned from the trunk where I was about to retrieve my luggage, looking in the direction of the voice. Before me a few feet away stood an attractive blonde woman of about twenty something.
She had her hands on her hips and a look of pure hate on her face. I brushed back the wisps of my red velvet colored hair that had fallen into my face and looked around before looking back at her.
She seemed out of place here, like she didn’t belong. Maybe it was her approach, her unwelcoming glare, or the anger that seemed to be coming off her in waves.
Whatever it was, there was something about her that struck sudden fear in my heart. My skin felt clammy and it felt like something was cutting off my air.
I forced myself to keep eye contact even though I wanted to look away and a sudden depressing thought struck. Had I made a wrong turn? Figures!
“I’m so sorry, I…” Before I could finish, the sound of a door slamming came from somewhere up at the house and then a male voice intruded on the scene.
“You must be Noelle.” I looked past her to the newcomer and a whole new set of emotions took flight in my chest and tummy and other places that we will not mention.
Holy…well…if the place was beautiful then the English language was lacking in words to describe him. Gorgeous comes to mind. Yes let’s go with that.
I’m not one to fall for a pretty face and I am smack dab in the middle of a hate for all things male. But even my cold abused heart had to admit, he is fiiiiine.
I kinda sorta assessed the situation at a glance but the look on her face confirmed. She must be the ex or soon to be ex, and why didn’t I pay more attention when I had the chance?
Oh well; too late now. Besides, from her reaction it doesn’t look like I’m going to be here long enough for it to matter one way or another.
The dreamboat with the black curls and piercing blue eyes came forward with a welcoming smile and his hand outstretched to take mine.
“Hi, I’m Callan, mom told me you’d be here sometime today. Come on in.” He didn’t even acknowledge her as he took my hand and led me towards the house.
I fought not to look back at who I suspected was his ex-wife… Trudy was it? I was glad I didn’t when she screamed or screeched more like it, and ran after us.
“Who is she Callan? Huh?” He didn’t answer and I was starting to feel just slightly uncomfortable since she was getting way too close and seemed way too angry.
As if he hadn’t melted my poor unprepared heart already, when he placed me in front of him out of harm’s way and kept walking I felt butterflies take flight in my tummy. Oh this is not good.
Once inside I was even more blown away. It’s not that I’m not accustomed to class and sophistication in home décor. My own home after all is a thing of beauty.
But this place, with its antique furnishings that seemed to have been here since the house was built, the finery in every detail, somehow seemed to transport one back to a different time.
It’s the same way I felt the first time I visited an old Louisiana plantation, or any of the other historical sights I’ve haunted in the past. Almost as if you’re in the presence of something from a time gone by.
What made the experience even more intense, more enjoyable even, was the man whose body heat I imagined I could feel searing my arm as we moved through the room together.
For a brief moment I felt as if I were moving through a time warp, or some kind of otherworldly portal that blurred the lines between reality and an alternate universe.