Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“I was hoping you’d call. It was all over the news that you were attacked last night. Are you all right? We talked it over and even Sam would come to watch your back if you need us.”
“I’m fine. Charles was drunk and he was a very sore loser. I hit my head on the wall and got a little bruise. I think the hotel saw it as a publicity thing.”
“You sound tired.”
The concern in Shabina’s voice warmed her. She loved her friends and counted herself very lucky. She’d meant what she said to her mother. She was perfectly content with her life. She didn’t need to delve into her past to be happy.
“I’m always exhausted after I play,” Vienna conceded. “Enough about me. Where are we with the plans for Stella’s bridal party, or whatever we’re calling it?”
Shabina laughed. “We’re waiting on you to see if we can fit all the things in she was hoping to do. Have you had time to scout out everything on her wish list? If not, I can get there a day or so early with Raine and we can do it. We know you’re busy.”
“Tomorrow should be the last day of the tournament.” Vienna was hopeful that was the truth. She didn’t know if it was the long hours surrounded by so many people or the intensity of playing publicly after playing alone for so many years, but she felt drained. “I should be able to scout out the bouldering, hiking trails and coffee shops. I did already find us a wonderful kayaking trip. It’s all day, and the river looks so beautiful. I’m excited about that. I know that was one of Stella’s particular wishes.”
“You do sound really tired,” Shabina reiterated. “I can take some of this off you. I don’t mind closing the café if I have to. Stella’s wedding is important, and so is her bridal party. How often does one of our friends get married?”
“That’s true, but I can handle this.” Vienna traced the bruising on her ribs. “Do you remember Sam’s friends? The ones who took us to your house and guarded us until he said it was safe?”
“Yes, of course.”
“After, I took a leave of absence and went off by myself. One of Sam’s friends followed me. To make a long story short, I’ve connected with him again. We’re sort of a thing. He’ll be at the wedding too. I just wanted you to know.”
There was a short silence. “Which one?” There was caution in Shabina’s voice.
“Sam’s best man.” Now that she knew Zale and Rainier had been threatened, she wanted to be cautious. “I’ve got to go. I am tired and need to sleep. I’ll let you know what I find out about the bouldering as soon as I know.”
“If you need me to help, call,” Shabina said.
Vienna managed to hang up and take a long drink of water before the strange lethargy completely overtook her. She glanced at the clock. Zale was supposed to meet her later in the evening. She was becoming concerned about his safety. He had kept his distance from her in front of everyone, allowing Rainier to act his part of the elderly gentleman watching out for her. Zale was worried that an enemy might target her if they thought she was in any way involved with him.
She closed her eyes and drifted off. When she woke up, Zale was sitting on the edge of her bed. In that unguarded moment, before he realized she was awake, he looked tired and worn. He had his phone out and was looking down at the screen, a slight frown on his face, then he was rapidly typing a message.
She lifted her hand to brush the pads of her fingers over the frown, stroking gently, as if she could erase his mood. Immediately, he captured her wrist and pulled her fingers into the heat of his mouth. Her breath hitched in her lungs as his eyes met hers. There was always that intensity about Zale when he focused on her—as if she were the only woman in his world, the only person in his world who truly mattered to him.
He kissed her fingertips. “I miss seeing you when I’m away from you. I never thought that would be possible.”
“I miss you too. I try not to worry,” she admitted.
He gently laid his palm over her belly, spreading his fingers wide so they covered from under her breasts to her ribs. “I’m not the one with a large bruise.”
“I’m not the one with knife wounds,” she countered.
His smile was slow in coming, but gorgeous by the time it hit his eyes. “Snowflake, I would hardly call the scratches I have wounds.”
His fingers slowly began to push up the material of her flimsy top. His gaze didn’t move from hers, only the intensity increased. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.