Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Even if Savannah hadn’t walked into Jason’s and my club a week ago, her path was still set to collide with mine. It was only a matter of time. Fate was bringing her to me one way or another.
When she puts her hand over her eyes to shelter them from the sun, I realize what drew her attention away from her gardening. A sleek black BMW is pulling down her long gravel driveway. I toss my scope into my passenger seat, starting up my SUV.
I knew this was coming, but there wasn’t much I could do to stop it. Savannah Moreau doesn’t know it, but she is about to be a very rich girl. Seems her grandfather didn’t have a will. That was something I did know before he keeled over, doing the world a favor. What I didn’t know was that she existed—not until the bank started digging when they were trying to figure out what to do with the man’s land now that he’s dead.
It wasn’t even the bank that found out about Savannah. It was William Tate who filled them in on that little secret. He also told them he was her husband. The steering wheel groans under my death grip at that bullshit. I relax my hold so I can make my turn down the road to get to my girl.
William is lucky I can’t find him, or he’d be meeting the same fate as Savannah's grandpa. Or maybe not as quickly. I’ve never given marriage much thought before now, but I don’t like the idea of my Savannah being a widow. I want that shit wiped clean. Annulment or whatever.
The only man she’ll ever be married to is me.
2
Savannah
Disappointment fills me when I see some fancy BMW pulling down my driveway. I was sure it would be Archer, but he drives this SUV thing that belongs in one of those James Bond movies.
I live a bit off the beaten path. My grandfather owned a ton of land. On it he built a bunch of small houses and trailers that he let his followers live in. Most of them worked for his church in one form or another.
Once I graduated from high school, I convinced him to let me move out of the main house. I’m not sure why he agreed, but he ended up giving me the smallest trailer on the back of the land. I’d lost my mom suddenly in a car accident. I’d known of my grandfather, but I didn’t really know him. The state handed me over to him since he was considered my next of kin. I’m not sure he even knew what to do with a teenage girl.
Honestly, I think he only took me in because it might have looked bad to his followers if he turned me away. What kind of godly man wouldn’t want to help his own family? He had to keep up appearances. When he passed a month ago, I didn’t really feel anything. I know that’s terrible, but I’ve always been a bit fearful of him. Whenever his name came up around my mom, she’d freeze up. I know growing up here wasn’t easy for her.
I don’t know why they hadn’t been on speaking terms, but I could only guess he’d done something to her or they just didn’t have the same kind of beliefs, which is clear to me now. Mom was always a bit of a free spirit. I think some might even call her a hippie. I think I’m the only thing that kept her planted in one spot.
The car rolls to a stop before a man in a suit opens the door and steps out. My dog Thor comes to his feet, coming down the stairs of the porch. “You stay,” I order him. He drops his butt down to the ground, watching the man, who gives him a leery gaze. I don’t blame him. Thor is giant, weighing more than I do. Normally he’s a big, cuddly bear, but not when it comes to strangers or my safety.
“Mrs. Monroe?” the man asks.
“I’m Savannah Moreau.” I don’t know of any Mrs. Monroe.
“Oh, good, I’m Nick Sinclare. I’m from Watermark Bank. I’m here to discuss your grandfather.”
“Okay, would you like to come in?”
“Sure.” He reaches back into his car, grabbing a briefcase. I had a feeling something like this would be coming soon. I’m not sure what’s going to happen to my grandfather's church or his land. I was actually a bit surprised when I’d turned eighteen and he hadn’t told me it was time for me to get a move on. He might not have gotten around to it, though.
He wasn’t the kindest of men. He may have acted as if he were to the outside world, but I knew better. My mom may not have told me much about her childhood, but she did fill me in on some things. I know my grandfather wasn’t a good man, and he also wasn’t the sanest.