Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I was excited to get home, to share some takeaway with Vega and try to forget about the day, knowing that there would be no strange men with bullets in the back room the next day.
The problem was, I only got about halfway home before my car just… suddenly stopped working.
“What the hell…” I said, brows furrowing as I hit the brake to stop the car’s forward momentum.
I had my car in the shop, at minimum, twice a year. I made sure all the levels were checked, topped off, and all the belts, filters, and all the other, you know, parts were inspected. And I never let the tank go below half.
What the heck could be wrong?
“Damnit,” I hissed, slamming my head back on the rest.
It would be okay.
I could get a tow.
Vega could drop me off and pick me up from work.
Still, I could feel anxiety starting to curl up my spine, unfurling across my chest, making it feel constricted.
Changes bothered me, there was no denying that. And there had been several changes going on lately. It was just a lot.
But it was going to be okay.
In for five, hold for four, out for six.
I was on my fourth repetition of that when I saw headlights pull up behind me.
Normally, I would feel relief.
This was Balm Harbour.
It was full of kind people who always wanted to lend a hand to help.
It was just the weird stuff at work that had me tensing back up, undoing any of the effects of the breathing exercises.
My hand shot out, double-checking the locks as I heard a car door slam, then footsteps approaching.
“It’s fine! Everything’s fine! My boyfriend is almost here!” I called through the crack in the window, holding my phone to my ear like I was actually on a call.
“Hey, sweetheart,” a voice said.
I swear to God shivers broke out across my skin at the sound of that word coming out of that man’s mouth.
Because I knew who it was before I even turned my head to look.
I was convinced there was maybe only one man in all of Balm Harbour who could give me shivers just with his voice.
Cesare Costa.
Of course he would be who would come to my rescue.
The universe had a… unique sense of humor, it seemed.
“Oh, hey,” I said, pretending like I didn’t notice how all the anxiety that had been creeping up on me suddenly vanished when I knew it was him.
Which was absurd since I didn’t know him from Adam, and there was no way for me to know if he was actually a safe person to roll my window down to or not.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It just… stopped working,” I said. “No warning lights or anything. I have my car in the shop several times a year. It doesn’t make sense,” I said.
“Cars can be dicks like that,” he said, shrugging. “If I remember correctly from the time I got my car stuck in the snow, the tow guy will come out after hours. But he doesn’t exactly do it in a hurry.”
No, he didn’t.
You could be stranded half the night.
“That’s true,” I agreed.
“You want me to give you a lift?” he asked. “Or is that big, burly boyfriend of yours right around the corner?” he asked, and the tiny smirk pulling at his lips told me he knew it had been a lie.
I was moving before I was thinking, rolling up my window, taking out my key, then reaching for my purse before pushing open the door.
“I, ah, that was kind of a lie,” I admitted.
He gave me a sly smile as he pushed the door closed for me. “I figured. But you gotta be safe, right? Girl alone on the side of the road. I would tell my sister to say the same.”
“You have a sister?” I asked, wincing at the eager tone of my voice, giving him a look at the almost desperate way I was clinging to a small bit of personal information about him.
“Yep. And several brothers. Big family,” he told me, reaching downward and taking my hand, and I swear there was a spark at the contact, something that had me gasping and jerking backward slightly. “Just trying to lock your car,” he told me, pressing his finger into the button. “You ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, the word a soft, sighing sound as I inwardly thanked him for not commenting on my reaction.
“You on your way home?” he asked me as he walked so close with me toward my side of the car that our arms nearly brushed.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I could almost swear I felt the warmth of him moving through his suit jacket and warming my arm.
“Ah, yeah,” I said, watching as he reached for my door, pulling it open.