Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
I resisted the urge to look at Ford again. He drew my gaze, my body, my attention like a magnet. For just a moment, I regretted saying that this thing between us had to be a secret. I let out a sigh as I followed the boys across the lawn to the area designated for soccer.
I was deluding myself into thinking that it would be as simple as telling everyone Ford and I were together. First of all, I didn’t know that we were. We’d had sex. Amazing sex. I wanted to have a lot more of it. But it wasn’t only sex—not for me, and I was reasonably certain not for him either. But what did that even mean?
Was I ready to risk my job for a relationship this new? That would be idiotic. And on top of that, I’d come here for a reason—to find my father. I’d had zero success on that front, but if I got myself fired, I’d give up the only lead I had. I supposed I could hire a private investigator. But why blow my savings when I could hang around here, maybe find out what had happened to him, and get paid for a job I loved while I was at it?
I shook my head. Such a weak excuse, Paige. I was full of excuses lately.
Focus, Paige, I told myself.
August took a shot. Nicky leapt to block it, and both boys looked at me for a response.
“Nice shot, August,” I said. “I didn’t know you could jump that high, Nicky. Try it again.”
I wasn’t here to moon over my boss’s brother.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I had the whole family in my contacts, though I rarely texted most of them. I pulled up Ford’s number.
My room after dinner?
I hit send before I could think twice and stuffed my phone back in my pocket.
I was here to watch the kids. And not just watch them, but engage, teach, and guide. I couldn’t do that if I had my face in my phone and my mind on Ford. Dinner wasn’t that far away—I’d survive.
The hours dragged. I dropped Stella off with Griffen and Hope for a while, then picked her back up when they both had other calls. Normally, I loved being with the kids, but I was distracted.
Stella was fussy after dinner, her teething pain back with a vengeance. I couldn’t keep up with the way it ebbed and flowed. One day, she was screaming bloody murder, and the next, she was her normal peaceful self. We were all looking forward to the rest of her teeth coming in. Her pained cries were so hard to hear.
I finally made it upstairs, well after the family had finished eating. As I rounded the corner from the main stairs and entered the guest wing, a chill sent goose bumps over my skin. I shouldn’t be surprised that the heat in the guest wing was struggling, considering how cold it had been all day. Along with the dodgy electricity and the questionable plumbing, the heat worked when it decided to. We had electric blankets for when it didn’t, though they didn’t do much good if the electricity also went out. The heat had been fairly reliable over the last few weeks, but maybe the cold temperatures outside had taxed the aging system too hard. I shivered, then thought of Ford. Under the covers, we’d keep each other warm.
I reached the end of the hall. His door was closed—no light showing beneath—but mine was cracked a few inches, the glow of the light spilling out. I pushed open the door, a welcoming smile on my face. “Hey, sorry I took so—” I cut off as he turned.
My heart fell as my eyes met his, the sea-green ice-cold, his face without expression. In his hand was the picture of Sarah Sawyer I’d found with the letters in my father’s trunk.
I closed the door behind me.
“What are you doing with a picture of my mother, Paige?” he asked, his voice like stone.
“Where did you find that?” I asked. It was a stupid question. I knew exactly where he’d found it. My bedside drawer was open. “Why were you going through my things?”
I crossed the room, ignoring him, to look in the drawer. A strip of condoms sat on top of the manila envelope that held the letters and the picture of Sarah. I recognized the brand from Ford’s room the night before and instantly understood. My heart twisted. He was being responsible, doing the right thing, and I’d been an idiot not to hide the evidence better. But I hadn’t thought about anyone going through my drawers. I should have, but I’d been here for months and no one had—until now.
“Paige. Answer me,” he demanded, his voice as cold as the air in the room, sending a chill all the way to my bones.