Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
She climbs in, slams the door, and speeds off, tires spitting snow. I let out the breath I’ve been holding only after she disappears around the bend, but my hands are still shaking.
A sick twist of dread coils in my gut. How the hell did she know I was from New York?
The cold finally seeps into my bones, so I go back inside, shutting the heavy front door behind me and locking it. Making a beeline for the living room, I stand in front of the fire, holding my hands out to the warmth as I try to steady my breathing.
My heartbeat eventually slows from its frantic pace, but that unsettled feeling stays lodged under my ribs. When I finally hear the rumble of the truck pulling up outside, relief hits me so hard, my knees almost give out.
The moment they walk through the door, I know keeping anything from them isn’t an option. I don’t even make them ask. I tell them everything.
“Tessa came by again,” I start. “She was taking pictures of the house, so I went outside to confront her and it got ugly.”
Every word Tessa had said spills out of me, every insecurity she’d disguised as a threat.
“She knows I’m from New York,” I say quietly. “I never told her that, and I’m pretty sure none of you did, either.”
The stunned silence that follows tells me I’m right.
The calm before the storm is finally over. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice whispers, well, time to buckle up, buttercup.
27
BOONE
Itext Tessa and tell her to meet me at the Grizzly Creek Café. No explanation. No pleasantries. Just a time and a place. She shows up twenty minutes late.
Typical.
When she finally pushes through the door, shaking snow off her glossy black hair and scanning the room like she expects every head to turn and stare, the only thing that stuns me is that I ever put a ring on her finger.
Jesus. I must have been out of my goddamn mind back then.
She spots me in the booth and her lips curve into a familiar smile. She used to practice it in the mirror because she thought it made her look irresistible, but it just makes her look unhinged.
Eyes locked on mine, she sways over, her coat sliding off her shoulders so slowly it’s obvious she thinks I’m about to stand and help her. I don’t move.
“Boone,” she purrs as she slides in next to me. Her perfume hits instantly, a sweet, cloying, artificial scent that has always made my stomach curdle. “You look good, baby. Have you been working out?”
She reaches for my arm, and I lean back so her hand hits air. “Don’t touch me, Tessa. Go sit over there.”
I jerk my chin at the chair a normal person would take, across the table instead of next to me. Her smile flickers, but she does it, scooting across with just enough attitude to let me know she hates being told no.
“What’s going on?” she asks, folding her arms and leaning forward like a glimpse of her cleavage will seduce me into forgetting every horrible thing she’s ever done. “You texted out of nowhere—”
“You showed up at my home,” I cut in. “Twice. You harassed Roxie, so here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get right back up, walk out of here, pack your shit, and leave town. Tonight.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head, incredulity written all over her face. “Boone, come on. You can’t seriously be choosing some little city mouse.”
I stare at her. “You don’t belong in my life anymore. You never really did, and we both know it. I might not know what the fuck you’re doing here, but I’m not going to sit back and find out.”
She blinks rapidly, probably taken aback by the blunt rejection in my tone. She still thinks she has some kind of hold on me. Tessa is allergic to accepting that she can’t just snap her fingers and I’ll come running.
“Boone,” she tries again, gentler now, like she’s going for sympathy. “Look, I heard you were doing well, that you built something out here. And I know you. I know how lonely you get. I thought maybe—”
“No.” I bark the word sharp enough to make her flinch. “You don’t know me, Tessa. Once upon a time a very long fucking time ago you knew a young, immature version of me who was drunk on fame, fighting, and bad decisions. You don’t know the man I am now, and you’re not going to.”
Her lips curl. “So, you think this Roxie does? That she knows you better than I do?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “It hasn’t even been that long, and she already knows me better than you ever did.”