Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Because the truth is, I just don’t date.
It’s not that I haven’t dated anyone since Cross was born. That’s not true at all. There was a time there, right after Cross started kindergarten and my single-mommy routine took a turn, when I dated all kinds of men outside of the Trinity area.
But I compared each one of them with Erol. I was still stuck on the idea that he might come back. I mean, they didn’t find a body. There was no death certificate. Even now, there is no death certificate. He could still be out there. Maybe the idea of a wife and a baby when he was eighteen was just too much? Maybe he just needed some space? Some time to think?
That was my daydream back then. That Erol would come back riding a motorcycle or something, with a black leather jacket to match, and he’d take one look at me and little Cross and just fall back in love with us.
But I gave up on that fantasy years back now. And I stopped dating too.
However. Amon Parrish, age thirty, might be worth taking a chance on.
It’s just… it comes at an inopportune time. Because I’m feeling this emptiness of losing Cross. This is another transition period in the motherhood experience and my first inclination when these transitions occur is to go hook up with a Scar.
The name Scar is just a euphemism for any man, really. But particularly one of questionable morals and decision-making skills.
And Amon Parrish is a Scar if ever there was one. I don’t know the whole story of what he and Collin and the rest of their crew have been up to all these missing years, but I know enough. He might be flirty and fun, but he’s also a big red flag. A mistake waiting to happen.
And my lonely heart just can’t handle the fallout of such mistakes.
So I open up my notebook, click my pen, and start writing a new ad.
Desperately seeking… somebody who is not Amon Parrish.
On Monday morning I’m glaring at inspector Sawyer Martin from my porch as he pokes around my kennel.
“If looks could kill…” Collin sips a cup of coffee as he approaches my porch steps. “Why are you so bothered about that guy, Amon? He’s no one. He’ll be gone soon enough and you’ll never have to think about him again.”
I shrug. “I just don’t think my kennel is any of his business, that’s all.”
“It might not be, but if Charlie told him to inspect things, then the man needs to inspect things. He seems competent, so don’t let it bother you.”
My gaze slides away from Collin and lands back on the kennel, but this Sawyer guy has disappeared. “Charlie has no say in my kennel. I paid for it all by myself. He didn’t give a dime for it. So even if he’s got some kind of problem with what I’m doing and how I’m doin’ it, it’s none of his damn business. Which means this guy’s poking is getting’ on my last nerve.”
“Just ignore him.” Then Collin turns his back to me and starts walking up the driveway towards Nash’s house. “See ya around, Amon.”
“Yep,” I call back. “See ya around.”
I wait until Collin is out of sight, then I hop down my porch stairs and head around the side of the kennel where I find this Sawyer character peeking into kennel windows.
“Can I help you with something?”
He turns, startles, then smiles. “Why, yes—yes, you can. This building here seems to be locked. If you could let me in, I’d sure appreciate it.”
Though I didn’t notice it before, his accent comes off as local. “It’s locked because ain’t no one got any business in there right now. All the dogs are either training with their partners or resting comfortably because they’re about to give birth to puppies.”
His smile never wavers. “OK. But you didn’t say if you’d let me in or not.”
My immediate instinct is to fight with this guy and deny his request for access. But Collin is probably right. The sooner he does his job, the sooner he leaves.
“I’ll let ya in,” I tell him, “if you tell me what you’re looking for.”
He’s still smiling. Like this is his default expression. “I’m not really looking for anything in this kennel. I was just told to take a look at everything, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“You already saw this kennel. So why the second look?”
“I’m here to take lots of looks, Mr. Parrish. It’s not a one-and-done kind of thing. It’s a thorough inspection for Charlie Beaufort because, possibly, he’s got some concerns about you boys.”
Something happens here with this guy. I don’t know if it’s his tone, or the way his eyes narrow down in the slightest of ways, or the fact that he’s way more confident in his interaction with me than most men are. It’s possibly all three. Because I take a second look at Sawyer Martin and decide he’s not a paper-pusher and I should’ve seen it immediately.