Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“So good,” I whisper back with a lazy yawn. He tugs the duvet up over our naked bodies. “Night, Kane. And thank you for everything today.”
“No choice—and no regrets either. Sleep well, duchess.”
I do, and his voice follows me into my dreams.
My phone goes off on the counter beside me after I shuffle downstairs to put a pot of coffee on.
Sleeping with Kane has side effects.
I’m not getting a ton of sleep and I wake up weirdly early, so I’m still groggy, trying to find the will to grab my phone.
When I finally have the wits to put it to my ear, I suppress a yawn.
“Yes, hello?”
“Is this Miss Blackthorn?”
“That’s right. Who’s this?”
“Ma’am, I’m Detective Peter Albright from down in Bar Harbor. I’m helping the Sully Bay police out with their investigations.”
“Oh, okay.” I slide into a chair, instantly more awake. “Did they have a chance to visit Mr. and Mrs. Babin yesterday?”
“That’s what I’m calling about, yes.”
I scrub the last gritty sleep from my eyes.
Kane’s still upstairs, half-asleep and showering after a lazy bout of morning sex. I can hear Dan starting his drumming practice upstairs, and Sophie’s probably reading. Either way, the kitchen is empty and I’m alone.
“What did they say?”
“Sheriff paid them a visit, and I spoke with them over the phone to corroborate,” Detective Albright says. “We also checked their shoes against the prints we took. I’m sorry to say they didn’t match. The Babins also have a rock-solid alibi for the time in question.”
“What?” I suck in a breath. “What alibi?”
“Turns out they were delivering blueberries to a local pie shop one town over,” he says. “We talked to the owner, and everything checks out.”
Yikes.
I was so sure.
I never considered the possibility it might be someone else.
And if it is, who?
“I see,” I say slowly. “So, no other leads?”
“Not at this time, ma’am. We’ll follow up on a couple other theft reports in the area to see if we’ve got a connection.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for letting me know,” I say weakly.
“We’ll keep looking, don’t you worry. And if anything useful turns up, you’ll be the first to know. If you have any questions or new information, please don’t hesitate.”
“Right. I won’t. Thank you.” I force a smile into my voice, but my stomach flips upside down before I end the call.
Last night, Kane did such an amazing job helping me forget. But it’s impossible not to remember now.
Stumbling into the house and finding that broken plate, the pretty ceramic shards thrown everywhere like violent art.
That was hatred, plain and simple.
But if the Babins didn’t do it…
That begs another question.
We sent the police to the Babins’ house, having accused them, and if they weren’t behind this, should we apologize?
Ugh! Awkward.
My vision spins.
A quick look through the new camera app says there were no new disturbances last night, either. We were safe, nothing captured outside besides a deer moving around the edge of the property.
A shiver arcs down my back.
It’s just confusing and none of this makes me feel safe.
But there are footsteps on the stairs, so I grab a mug and pour him some coffee.
I won’t tell him. Not yet.
Poor Kane, he’s already worried sick for the kids—and I don’t want to make it worse. He won’t like the uncertainty, the creeping danger in not knowing.
Later, of course he’ll find out, after I’ve had time to process the shock.
He steps into the room a minute later, his hair hanging wet and a burgundy sweater painted on across his broad shoulders.
His eyes heat like green lamps when he sees me.
“Coffee already? Must be my lucky morning.”
“We both need it after last night. Especially you, Mr. Saint, at your age.” I giggle.
“Smartass, don’t think I’m above tanning your ass in this kitchen.” He kisses my cheek as he passes by.
I push the stressful call away.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
“I like when you call me Mr. Saint,” he growls.
“You’re insatiable.”
“For you, hell yes.” He takes the chair beside mine and grabs my hand, bringing the mug to his lips. “Being around you without touching violates the laws of physics.”
“Then this must be how you get arrested by the cosmic police.” I say it without thinking.
We both stop and stare, thinking what else gets people arrested.
His hand travels up and down my back, tender and soothing.
“I already checked the cameras. Nothing new last night,” he says between sips.
“I saw.”
“Then you know we’re okay.” His hand stops at the small of my back, and he brings me closer for another kiss. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Margot. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah? I want you to trust me.” He leans back to look me in the eyes.
Really, I do.
I trust him to protect me as long as we’re both sharing this house. The trouble comes if that changes and I decide to stick around a little longer, but I won’t dwell on that for now.