Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
I rap on the door and wait for her to open it. When she doesn’t, I call out, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m trying to sleep,” she calls. “I put pillows and blankets for you on the couch.”
“You’re in my bed,” I barely keep the words civil.
“And it’s so comfortable. You really did spare no expensive on this mattress.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Get out of my bedroom.”
“This is a one-bedroom rental,” she explains, her voice a little too sweet.
“It’s not a rental!” I wonder if Judge Helen would throw the book at me if I dragged my trespasser into the forest. There are caves and dens out there. Heck, I’d even do the gentlemanly thing and give her pillows and blankets, the way she gave them to me.
“So you keep saying,” her voice is sing-song now, taunting me.
I could break down the door. For a second, I give it serious thought. I’d love nothing more than to burst in there and kiss that sassy mouth of hers. I’d kiss her until she was breathless and whimpering.
Nope, that’s not happening. Because I’m going to spend tonight making sure my little trespasser wants to run away in the morning.
I wait for hours until I hear her soft snores before I put my plan into action. It’s not lost on me that it took her far too long to fall asleep. Maybe it’s just the strain of being in an unfamiliar place.
She’s a restless sleeper, always kicking and moving about. Her dreams are anything but peaceful. We’re alike in that. As soon as I think it, I push the thought away and get back to my task. I don’t want to be feeling sorry for this girl or wondering what’s stolen her peace.
It takes me several hours but by the time the first pink ribbons of the sky start breaking through, I finished with my plan. I slip inside the cabin and onto the couch I made up. With any luck, I’ll be sleeping in my bed again soon.
Sophie
I blink awake in an unfamiliar bed, sunlight streaming through the curtains. My heart beats an erratic rhythm as adrenaline floods my system.
The events of yesterday come back to me, and I remember my little cabin rental. The rental that came with one very gruff landlord. The thought of his grumpy scowl actually has me smiling. I expected him to argue with me for a lot longer over who got the bed, but he just slunk away.
I reach for Tobias who is sleeping peacefully on my chest. Careful as to not wake him, I settle him on the pillow next to me before sitting up slowly. Something is wrong. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Then I place what’s different and relax. Nothing is really wrong. The room has been moved while I slept.
I remember Whiskey talking about the ghost rearranging his furniture. He’s really trying hard with his little scheme to get me out of here. Well, if he wants me gone, it will take more than a lame ghost story and some furniture changes to get me out of here.
I’m itching to go for a run this morning. I slept last night but it was the kind of restless sleep that happens when you wake repeatedly and can’t settle. All night long, the sounds from that day replayed in my head. The screaming and the gunfire and the terror I tasted at the back of my throat.
Tobias meows softly, making that gentle kitten noise. In his sleep, he must have sensed my rising anxiety. I pull him close, petting him and murmuring to him that he’s safe now. We both are. If only my mind could believe it.
“Let me brush my teeth then I’ll get you some breakfast,” I promise. When I stumble into the attached bathroom, I almost laugh at the message written on the mirror. Scrawled in what looks like soap is one word: leave.
As pranks go, these two were kind of lame which means he didn’t really want to scare me and that he probably doesn’t believe in ghosts any more than I do.
When I’ve brushed my teeth and my hair, I shrug into a black robe and head toward the kitchen. The growly mountain man is asleep on his couch. Half of his body is hanging off the furniture, and other half his covered by his big dog, like a furry weighted blanket.
I chuckle as I take Tobias into the kitchen, thinking of his busy night spent moving furniture. “He wore himself out last night.”
All is fair in war, so I don’t bother creeping around the kitchen and trying to be quiet. Maybe I even accidentally clang some pans a little too loudly and play some music from the ancient radio he has sitting on the counter.