Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” the woman called as Noelle turned with a wave.
“The owner’s assistant,” he repeated. “The owner being Chantilly Calhoun.”
“The one and only,” she said with a smile. “And you?” she asked as they continued along the path, turning and following another. Here and there were wooden signs that pointed toward each cottage, spelling out the names. LETTERED OLIVE, BANDED TULIP. And below each name was the picture of a seashell. “What are you doing now, Evan?”
Feeling like a moron, following you around at your job when what I really want to do is take you in my arms, hold you for hours, and then ask you questions that actually mean something. “Well, ah, you’ll be surprised to know that I’m a private investigator.”
She stopped and turned toward him. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I dropped out of Stanford and became a PI.”
She tilted her head, a wisp of hair falling across her cheek. His hand itched to push it back. “I bet your dad loved that.” She gave him the first genuine smile since he’d shown up here unannounced.
He smiled back. “He’s still steaming mad,” he admitted. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck again. “But it’s my life. I’m happy with my choices.”
Their eyes locked for a few beats before she looked away, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing off through the trees. What did she keep looking for? Someone to rescue her? Or was she worried her boss would be unhappy with her chatting with him as she worked? “Well, that’s good to hear,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He glanced at her hand as she leaned over the cart. She wasn’t wearing a ring. His lungs expanded. He didn’t want to admit how relieved he felt, but he did. He wouldn’t think about why. He wouldn’t.
She pulled a blue beach bag full of something out of the cart and carried it to the door of another cottage just through two tall trees. He heard Noelle and a woman exchange a few words, and then Noelle returned a minute later. “That’s it,” she said. “I have a few more things to do back at the house, and then I can meet you for a drink in an hour or so?” That worried look over her shoulder again confused him. “There’s a place in town that has really good sweet-tea vodka. It’s sort of a local favorite.” She looked suddenly flustered. “I don’t even know if you drink. Well, anyway, they have everything. Are you staying here, or are you flying home later today?”
“To tell you the truth, I hadn’t really planned anything beyond today, Noelle.”
She huffed out a chuckle, putting her hand to her forehead, her features scrunching. “God, Evan. This is just . . .”
“I know,” he said. “I know. I’m . . . totally spinning here too. And I expected to see you.”
It was surreal. They were two people who’d been to hell together, now standing in the dappled sunlight of an ancient tree under a clear summer sky. He couldn’t remember the journey from there to here, and so each experience backed up to the other in his mind, making him feel slightly drugged and just a little delirious. A fever dream. A mixed-up impossibility.
“It’s not just that,” she murmured. “It’s—”
“Mommy! Mommy!” came the childish voice he’d heard earlier, foliage rustling as the small patter of feet came toward them. He turned his head just as a little girl came down the path, running toward Noelle.
Her mother.
Oh.
Noelle was a mother.
“Can I go on a bike ride with Ewell to get ice cream?”
Evan blinked as Noelle turned toward the child, bending slightly so she could smooth her hair back. “Sure, honey. But change your shoes,” she said, nodding down to her flip-flop-clad feet. “And wear your helmet. And tell Ewell only one scoop of ice cream this time, not three.”
Evan’s heart thumped in his chest.
Was Noelle married but didn’t wear a ring? Or had she broken up with this child’s father?
The little girl turned as Noelle stood straight, and Evan got the first glimpse of her full face. He swallowed, mouth going dry. Oh. Oh.
He took a step back, reaching for something, his palm finding the trunk of a tree.
“Who’s that, Mommy?” the little girl asked.
“That’s Evan,” Noelle said, her voice soft as she watched Evan closely. “An old friend.”
“Hi, Evan,” the girl said with a grin. “I’m Callie.” She was missing a front tooth. How old was he when he’d lost his front teeth? Six? Seven? Yes, right about that. Oh God.
He managed a smile, but he could feel that it trembled. “Hi, Callie. Nice to meet you.”
“Bye, Mommy. Bye, Evan,” she called as she skipped away, rounding the corner and disappearing through the greenery.
For several long moments Evan and Noelle simply stared at each other, eyes locked.