Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He looked down and played with the leash in his hand. “I know you have,” he said, so softly I almost didn’t hear him.
Aiden
I sighed as I looked at the door in front of me. The last thing I wanted to do was attend this meeting, but I knew I couldn’t put it off, and Tucker would most likely still have the meeting without me. It felt like this fucking week was dragging, and the fact that it was only Wednesday only added to my already on edge nerves.
As I walked into High-Point Restaurant and did a quick look around, I saw Tucker almost immediately. Sitting at the table with him was a blonde whom I assumed was Kathleen Daughtry, the actress who had decided to make Boggy Creek Valley her new home. Her back was toward me, so I couldn’t see her face.
High-Point was twenty-five miles outside of Boggy Creek, and closer to the ski resort that was another five miles north. It didn’t surprise me that they’d picked this place. It was a log cabin-style restaurant, and more on the classy side. It was the type of place folks in Boggy Creek would venture to only to celebrate something big, like an anniversary, a birthday for someone turning fifty, or some bullshit like that. All the ambient lighting and fancy tables were something someone like Kathleen Daughtry probably liked.
I wasn’t into that kind of shit, and it irked me when Tucker had suggested it. One, I hadn’t felt like driving out to High-Point, and two, it didn’t feel professional to be meeting with her afterhours like this. She either wanted us for our ability to build a quality house, or she didn’t. Period.
When Tucker looked up, his smile slipped some. I couldn’t help the cocky smile on my face as I made my way through the place to get to them. I had called Ms. Daughtry earlier today to introduce myself so that she wasn’t caught off guard when we met this evening. I also let her know she’d be meeting Granddad sometime in the near future.
Tucker had been surprised to find me sitting at my grandfather’s desk Monday morning. I had called Betty first thing and requested she have Tim and Carol and a few of the construction foremen come in so that I could meet everyone I hadn’t met before and let them all know there were going to be some changes. Not big ones. Not unless you considered my granddad stepping down and handing me the reins to a company I hadn’t worked at since I was eighteen years old “big.”
When I walked up, Tucker cleared his throat. “Kathleen, this is Aiden O’Hara.”
A stunning woman who looked to be about my age glanced upward and grinned. She didn’t hide the fact that her eyes took in every inch of me.
“Well, hello, Mr. O’Hara,” she practically purred.
With a smile, I reached out and shook her hand before I sat down at the table. The waiter was there before I even had a chance to fully sit.
“Sir, what might I get you to drink?”
“Whiskey, three fingers,” I stated.
“A certain brand, sir?” he asked.
I looked at him and shook my head. “Any whiskey will do.”
With a quick nod, he turned and headed toward the bar. I caught Tucker staring at me with a frown.
“Problem, Miller?” I asked.
He shook his head and cleared his throat once more before he spoke. “I was telling Kathleen here about the latest project we’re working on.”
I raised a brow. The little fucker was going to play that game, was he? Little did he know, I had buried myself in my granddad’s office the last two days and poured over all the current projects—since I couldn’t seem to bring myself to call or go see Willa.
Every time I thought about my hand around her neck, I wanted to throw up. Of course, it wasn’t lost on me that she hadn’t reached out either, except for one phone call where she didn’t bother to leave a voicemail. It might have been because I was a dick and walked out the door after sleeping with her.
After vowing I’d never hurt her, I pinned her down in her own fucking bed and damn near choked her.
“What project is that, Tucker? We’ve got four of them right now, including the house we’re building in Boston for one of the Patriots football players.”
A muscle twitched on the side of the asshole’s face as he forced himself to grin. “I was telling her about the Mack project.”
The waiter set my whiskey down, and I gave him a quick nod and thank you before I took a drink. “The historical house in Boggy Creek,” I said.
“I love old homes,” Ms. Daughtry said as she leaned forward. It wasn’t hard to notice that she was trying to put her tits on display. While Tucker damn near drooled, I focused on her eyes. Something about this woman sent out a warning signal.