Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Anything.
Say something, Scarlett!
"I, uh, I'm really a guest. Maybe you just missed me at check-in?"
Another narrowed look. "Maybe I did. Why don't you show me your room key?"
Tenn Sawyer was hot, definitely back to cranky, and absolutely no idiot.
I didn't have a room key and he knew it. Now what? I didn't get a chance to figure that out. Those fingers of steel closed over my arm again, pushing me ahead of him on the path with a gentle shove. He muttered to himself, "This must be my day for trespassers."
"I'm not a trespasser," I insisted, trying to think of how to get myself out of this one.
"Well, you're not a local, and you're not a guest of the Inn. So where are you staying, Scarlett? And why are you in my gardens just after dawn?"
I couldn't answer either question. Not yet. I should have figured out a good cover story on the long drive to North Carolina. Instead, I'd split my time between distracting my travel partner and quietly panicking. When I got my hands on Thatcher, I was going to kill him.
"Look, I can explain—" I tugged against his hold, casting around for something to say. I couldn't tell him why I was there. I didn't fully understand it myself. If I tried to explain, he'd think I was either crazy or a criminal. Probably both. Neither of which would help me get Thatcher back.
Tenn Sawyer wasn't letting go of my arm. His teeth set, jaw in a hard line, he dragged me down the neat gravel path, the Inn looming before us. It was a gorgeous building, the stone and timber construction at home in the mountains, imposing and still welcoming. If I were here on vacation, I'd be in heaven.
"Hey, stop!" I gave another hard tug on my arm, trying to get free. I didn't have anywhere to run considering what I'd left in the cottage I'd commandeered, but being dragged to the Inn had panic spiking up my spine. What if I got arrested? I couldn't let that happen. Too much depended on me. Everything that mattered.
Almost too late, I remembered a move Thatcher had taught me from one of his martial arts classes. How to get away from someone who outsized you. Leverage. Leaning into Tenn, I bent over and turned at the same time, wrenching my arm from his grip.
Damn, that hurt. I had just enough time to register the pain before my feet went out from under me. Stumbling back with an embarrassing shriek, I hit the bushes on the edge of the path, branches breaking, stabbing through my shirt. Swearing, I fell in an awkward tumble of limbs.
I landed wedged between two bushes, firmly stuck, my long hair falling in my face. Above me, Tenn muttered something about annoying women. I ignored him, twisting to get my hair out of my eyes.
Immediately, I wished I hadn't. A familiar face stared up at me, inches away. The black-haired woman. Only now, her eyes were glazed, and she had a neat, red circle in her forehead.
Oh, my God. She looked shocked as if she couldn't believe she was dead. Neither could I.
I'd love to say I kept my cool and ordered Tenn Sawyer to call the police while extracting myself from the bush without disturbing the evidence around the body.
I did not.
I screamed my ass off, thrashing to get free, hysterical in my desperate need to get away from the first dead body I'd ever seen up close. She was still warm. Just minutes ago, she'd been so alive. So angry. Now she was dead, her little black dress dirty with mulch, the circle in her forehead matching the red of her lips.
At that thought, my stomach heaved. Get a hold of yourself, Scarlett, a small voice ordered from the back of my head. It was drowned out by the much louder voice screeching, Oh My God Oh My God, over and over. I barely registered being lifted, branches dragging at my hair, ripping strands from my scalp, tearing my old t-shirt.
Landing on my feet, I stared up into Tenn's hot-yet-cranky face, registering just how pissed off he was before I lurched forward and threw up on his shoes.
Chapter Three
TENN
"What was that for?" I stared down at my running shoes in disgust, aware puke was slowly seeping through the lightweight mesh. Ugh.
It was definitely my day for gorgeous, trouble-making women. Though this one was light years from Vanessa. Tall, slender, stunning. That, they had in common. But while Vanessa was always made-up perfectly, dressed to the nines no matter the hour, Scarlett wore clothes so old most women I knew would have tossed them in the trash.
I doubted she had a speck of makeup on her clear skin. She definitely hadn't used anything to cover those freckles. I was a sucker for freckles. Ditto for long, thick red hair, pink lips, and green eyes so clear they made me think of newly cut grass. Not to mention the full swell of breasts I'd felt when she'd tried to get her arm free. Or the flare of interest in her eyes when she'd bumped into me on the path.