Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 108165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
When her eyes open, meeting his unblinking gaze affixed to her beautiful face, she turns her head a fraction so his thumb slides along her lower lip. He ducks his head, ignoring all whispers of reason. As he moves his thumb to replace it with his mouth, three hard knocks rap on the door.
Frankie jumps, gaze darting toward the sound.
Jackson distances himself, eyeing her while his heart pounds. What did he almost do?
Fucking stupid. A weak moment.
He turns to open the door. He wouldn’t be surprised if his sister teleported herself here just to make him bleed for getting distracted.
It’s not his sister.
“Have you seen Francesca?” Eloise asks. “The fire chief needs to speak with her again. I can’t believe this happened. She must be devastated.”
Before Jackson can answer, Frankie steps behind him. “I’m here,” she says, wedging herself in front of him.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. The fire’s out. They’re investigating to determine the cause, but the chief wants to—”
“I’m coming,” she says, walking toward the charred remains. Just as Jackson starts to close the door, Frankie glances over her shoulder. A look is exchanged, but he quickly shuts the door.
“Fuck.” He sighs, staring at his splintered piano. Frankie may look like his wife, Ryn, but that’s where it ends. He shrugs off his shirt and spends the next hour pounding his hanging bag and pushing through a grueling workout with his weights.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FRANCESCA
The little bitch will pay. I’ve never wished Molly Sanford physical harm—until now.
She’s pure evil.
The fire department hasn’t concluded their investigation, but I know it will come back as arson. I pissed her off at the nail salon, and she blamed me for her embarrassment, or she worried about the letter being in his room and decided to take care of it before I found it.
“Have you told your parents?” Eloise asks while showing me her guest bedroom.
“Not yet,” I toss my purse onto the bed. It’s all I have.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. But I think you need to return home and let this go.”
“She burned it down.” I narrow my eyes. How can Eloise not see that I can’t walk away now?
“If she did, they’ll trace it back to her.” Eloise frowns.
I open my mouth and close it just as quickly. Does she hear herself? She told me the Sanfords were untouchable. Why would an arson charge stick?
“Do you have something to wear to bed?”
“I don’t need anything. I’ll go shopping tomorrow.”
Disapproval remains etched on her forehead. She doesn’t want me to go shopping tomorrow. She wants me to go home. She and Jack are on the same page.
“Good night, Francesca.”
“Thanks for letting me stay with you.”
With a sad smile, she nods and shuts the door behind her.
I collapse onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. Life hasn’t been my biggest fan over the past few years. I’m a fan of optimism, but even the most loyal fans lose faith in their team when they’ve been let down repeatedly.
My phone vibrates.
Archer: Still in town? I need to see you
I take a selfie of my face in this unflattering position and send it to him.
Archer: Meet me at the B&B on 5th and Wilson
Me: I’m not much of a breakfast person
Archer: Cute. Be there in 30 min
Me: Can’t. It’s past my curfew
Archer: Wear that red dress
Me: It died
Archer: ? I’m tired. Not in the mood to play
Me: Then go to sleep. We’ll meet up when you’re in the mood to play
Archer: I like getting my way
I grunt. “Shocking. You’re such a toddler. I might have been in the mood to meet you tonight had your fucking little offspring not burned down my brother’s house.”
Me: Goodnight
I shut off my phone and toss it aside. Then I crawl to the top of the bed, rest my head on the pillow, and close my eyes for a few minutes.
A few minutes turn into the whole night.
I head to Target for a few essentials the following day before Eloise is out of bed. When I return, Jackson’s mowing her lawn.
I park by the remains of my brother’s house. There’s a fire investigation team working the scene. Waiting in the car, I try to figure out what to do when they confirm it’s arson. What I did to Molly at the nail salon was a four. This is a ten. It’s like cutting out someone’s tongue for spitting on you.
Stepping out of my car, I walk the perimeter.
“It was gasoline.”
I turn toward Jack’s voice.
He wipes the sweat from his brow with his arm.
“They said that?”
He shakes his head.
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I looked over things last night.”
I cross my arms. “Did you Google ‘searching for the cause of fires’?”
“Shouldn’t you be on your way home by now?”
I frown before brushing past him. “I think Steven’s girlfriend burned down the house.”