Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.” I followed her inside, automatically scanning the room out of habit. A thousand tiny details filed through my brain before I even realized what I was doing.
The house was… modest. It had clearly seen its share of years, but it was clean and well cared for. Nothing fancy, just worn wood floors, sturdy furniture, and the simple décor that had probably been there for decades. Over the brick fireplace, mismatched frames holding family pictures, both professional and candid’s, packed the mantle.
Lofton spread her arms wide and slipped into a British accent. “Welcome to the Beck Family Estate. The butler is off duty, so I will be your humble staff this evening. May I offer you something to drink?”
“Thanks, I’m good. Mind if I take a look around?”
Her nose crinkled as if my request was wholly uncomfortable for her. “Be my guest. Not much to see, though.”
“It’s fine.”
She twisted her lips and glanced around as if she were looking at the space for the very first time. “He wouldn’t take money from me. I tried. For years, I tried. Even before he got sick, things were going downhill around here. They were struggling, but he was still too damn proud to take a single cent from me. Once he started declining, and medical bills started piling up, Mom finally allowed me to pay off the mortgage and buy some new furniture.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It was too late. He couldn’t handle the change. He never stopped asking to go home and became more and more agitated. She eventually had to pay double to buy back all the furniture from the thrift store, so now we just leave it as is, changing nothing and fixing everything until it literally falls apart.”
A knot formed in my stomach. I hated that there was even an ounce of shame in her voice. “Hey, homes are supposed to be lived in. I wish I could go back to the one I grew up in.” I swayed my head from side to side. “Though it was in California and not London, obviously.”
She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Damn, London? I was going for more of a Queen’s English vibe.”
“Oh, no, you definitely missed the mark on that one. I was fully expecting you to pull out the Oi, guv’nah next.”
She pressed a hand to her chest, peering off into the distance with mock sorrow. “There go my dreams of ever being cast on Bridgerton.”
I crossed my fingers on both hands and lifted them into the air. “There’s always hope for a Peaky Blinder reboot.”
Her lips broke into a smile so stunning it could have brought armies of men to their knees.
I shook my head and stared down at my shoes, desperate to hide my grin. “Yeah, so, I’m just gonna familiarize myself with things.”
Thankfully, the shame had left her voice when she replied, “Go for it. Dad’s room is down here, off the kitchen, so maybe just steer clear of that.”
I made quick work of walking through the house. It was all pretty standard. Kitching, living room, dining room. Windows and doors locked, alarm system on. I tagged a few cameras discreetly mounted throughout, happy to know there were at least a dozen more I hadn’t been able to spot at first glance.
When I rejoined her in the living room, she eyed me with silent curiosity.
“Looks good.” I assured. “The rest of the bedrooms upstairs?”
“Yeah. Come on.”
I followed her to the narrow staircase. The first step groaned beneath her, which didn’t exactly inspire confidence about what it would do under my weight. She glanced over her shoulder with embarrassment. I fucking hated it almost as much as the shame.
“Nice. Build in alarm. I approve.” I told her to put her mind at ease.
It appeared to have worked when she let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, there was no such thing as sneaking out in this house when I was growing up. Oh, and speaking of, you’re going to be in Jenn’s old room. It connects with mine through a shared bathroom.”
Wonderful.
A shared bathroom.
With a woman.
With Lofton fucking Beck.
That cemented that I’d be getting ready in the barn each day.
“Sounds good.” I lied.
“You say that now. Wait until you see it.”
The second-floor hallway was short, lined with more photos. It was mostly horses, but there were a few school pictures of two girls with brown curly hair and gap-toothed smiles.
Lofton walked into the first door on the right. “This is mine.”
I had no idea what I expected given the state rest of the house, but a direct ticket back to her teen years was not it. Horse show ribbons covered one wall in bright strips of red, blue, and yellow. A corkboard above the desk held faded playbills and ticket stubs, and a zebra-print comforter with hot pink trim draped over a twin-sized bed.