Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
“Jackpot,” I say when one drawer is loaded with all kinds of watches. You were witness to him snapping a man’s neck with one hand. Are you really going to try to steal something after that? my mind chides me.
I bite my bottom lip and think it over, only taking one watch as my eyes catch on a blue velvet box. I go for it next, opening it. My mouth falls open when I see a giant diamond ring in the shape of a teardrop. I can tell from the band that it too is antique, but it’s without doubt a wedding ring. Why does he have this? Is he about to propose to someone?
Over my dead body. That thought flutters through my head. I toss it out because that would be easy for Avery to make possible. So instead, I pluck the ring out of the box and close it before putting it back. I return the watch, because it would be more noticeable if missing. I slip the ring into the pocket of the shorts he’d laid out for me. They’d fit perfectly as did the soft pink blouse.
When I hit the bottom step, I smell bacon and cinnamon. I follow the yummy smell into the kitchen, where I find Avery speaking to Mr. Lou while drinking a cup of coffee at the giant kitchen island. Mrs. Lou is at the stove still preparing breakfast. They all turn to glance my way when I enter the room.
Avery stands from his chair, making his way over to me. Again, he leans down and kisses me. What the hell? He keeps saying that I’m a thief, but he’s the true thief here. He’s always stealing kisses from me. I let out a small moan when he pulls my body flush to his. He’s so damn warm, and I have no clue why I have this sense of safeness around him. I should be terrified.
“Breakfast is almost done.” Mrs. Lou cuts into our small makeout session. I jump back away from Avery. He holds up the ring I’d slipped into my pocket. That sneaky bastard. Who the hell is this man?
“Hey, I stole that fair and square,” I huff.
“No need to steal it, little thief. It’s yours.” He grabs my wrist, lifting my hand and slipping the ring on my finger. My wedding ring finger. It fits as perfectly as the clothes on me.
“What does that mean?” My heart starts to race.
“I think you know what that means.”
I shake my head no, 'cause I don’t.
“After last night, there really is no choice.” He’s marrying me to keep me quiet?
I suppose that answers some of my questions as to who the hell this man is. He’s not only a crazy sociopath, but he’s going to be my husband. I know that for a fact.
The men around here always get what they want, and for some reason, Avery Harbin wants me.
11
AVERY
“You can’t marry a man you just met.” Mr. Lou chuckles. “Just kidding. Our grandkids love that movie. Frozen.” He turns to me. “Shall I start making arrangements for the ceremony?”
“Yes. The sooner the better.”
“Of course.” Mr. Lou claps me on the shoulder. “May and I thought it would never happen for you, but now we couldn’t be happier.”
“Wait.” Marigold steps between us. “Elsa was right, though. I can’t marry a man I just met.” She reaches for the ring.
I stay her hand. “You’re marrying me, Goldie, whether you like it or not.”
“So you can keep me quiet about the murder thing?” she huffs.
“No, I’d like you to get quite loud, actually.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “What?”
“Once we’re married, I expect you to be loud every night when I’m between your luscious thighs and–”
She slaps her hand over my mouth. “Oh my God.” She glances over her shoulder at Mrs. Lou. “They can hear you!”
“No worries.” Mrs. Lou waves her spatula. “How do you think Claude and I wound up with so many grandchildren?”
Mr. Lou walks over to her and kisses the side of her neck.
“Oh, stop, you silly goose.” She swats at him playfully as he goes to one of the cabinets and begins pulling out plates.
I pull her hand from my mouth and kiss her palm. “The ring is yours.”
“Right, because I stole it,” she sasses back.
“If you like.” I’m not going to argue the point, not when my ring is on her finger.
“And I’m leaving. I’m not letting myself be kidnapped anymore. I have stuff to do. So I can’t stay here when I need to be working or volunteering at the shelter. Like I said, I have to go.”
“No, you don’t.” I scoot her over to the island and put her in her seat. “You aren’t leaving.”
“Yes, I am. I have a volunteer shift at the shelter today.”
I suppose that’s important to her. There’s no need for her to work–especially if that work puts her in harm’s way via buffoons like Hoover–but I’ve seen the way she is with Heirloom. If she wants to help cats looking for a home, I don’t have an issue with it. “Oh, well that’s all right. I’ll drive you.”