Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Poor Hewitt.
Then again, he had to have a hand in creating a headstrong woman who thought she could bulldoze through people’s lives—subtly—and make everyone dance to her tune.
Then again, sounded like his wife had shades of that, so maybe Danielle got it from her, and Hewitt was so mired in it, he didn’t recognize it for what it was or something he should put a stop to.
“So you have Molly, Danielle and Bree, I have Frank, Mom, my uncle and Bryce,” I started. “It’s no wonder we’ve found ourselves on the island of misfits that’s part Cicely, Alaska and part Twin Peaks, just keeping our heads down and dodging bullets in the streets, serial killers and fanatic cults, knowing there’ll always be drama, and hoping it won’t aim itself our way.”
After saying that, I made a face, considering some of that drama ended up on my welcome mat.
“Told you Harry has a plan about those assholes, baby,” he said quietly.
He had told me that.
He’d told me all about that.
Although I was blown away that he’d been going up to that bluff to aid in the investigation, thinking on it, I wasn’t really surprised.
Hutch didn’t half-ass anything.
His dog training.
Mounting a surge protector on a wall so it’d be sturdy and perfectly level.
Protecting me.
And I might have gotten a little shiver that he put himself in possible danger to do it. It wasn’t like he didn’t have some pretty intense training in being stealthy.
Bottom line, I was thrilled he told me.
No secrets.
No lies.
And since we were sharing like we had a way with sharing, I wanted to ask about his mom.
But I sensed there was a depth to that where I had to let him find his way to giving it on his own time, and not at my request.
“You ever talk to your high school boyfriend, May?” he asked, taking me out of my thoughts.
I shook my head. “No. He has a rich, white boy’s life. A wife. Kids. A trust fund. A home studio where he makes his music, which is a guise for being a bum but putting out in the world he’s actually doing something. I’ll talk to his mom, and she’ll put his dad on, but Wells?” I shook my head. “Only when he’s around when they call on Thanksgiving and Christmas. We say a few words.” I smiled. “I pretend to care. And again, I know that sounds harsh, but the dude is a flake. He was hot when he was running track. But now, he is soooooo not my thing.”
Hutch grinned big at me.
Man, he was just so ridiculously handsome.
And that thick mustache had become the new meaning to my life.
“But just to say, he pretends to care too,” I continued. “And sometimes, I feel bad for him. Can you imagine your parents are still in touch with your high school girlfriend, and they’re always putting you on the phone with her when that was over a decade ago, you’ve moved on in your life, and the last thing you want to do is chat with your old girlfriend on the phone on Christmas?”
“That would flat suck,” he agreed.
“Totally. And I’m sure his wife hates it even more.” I gave him a big grin and only semi-joked, “Then again, they don’t like her, because she sounds like kind of a hippie-dippy drag, and they adore me.”
Hutch’s return grin wasn’t quite as big, but it was gorgeous.
“You gonna flip out if I told you what sounds good right about now is a cup of hot chocolate, very chocolaty, with marshmallows?” he asked.
“I would not,” I answered. “Are we going into town?”
“Since I don’t have the shit, we’ll have to. Unless you have it your house?”
I didn’t.
I shook my head on an exaggerated frown.
Hutch’s eyes lit with humor when they dropped to it, before he kept planning. “Anyway, Tonks and Hannibal need to get out and be doing something or at least Tonks will eat my guitar.”
I started laughing. “We can’t have that.”
And we certainly couldn’t.
“You could laze, baby,” he murmured. “I’ll be there and back in no time.”
No time would be, if he hurried, almost an hour.
“I’ll go. If your house won’t spontaneously open its own door and spit out a couple bags of Lesser Evil popcorn and a box of Milk Duds, it wouldn’t suck having those handy.”
“Noticed you always got a supply of both.”
And he noticed everything.
“I do.”
“Ready to activate?” he asked.
I smiled. “Let’s do it.”
We rolled out. We got dressed. We loaded the dogs in the car, and I did something I never thought I’d do with Hutch: went grocery shopping for nothing but junk food.
We came back. We took the dogs for a walk in the rain. We came back and toweled them down, though it was more fun when we toweled each other down. We played with the puppies. I got the laser light out and jiggled it for Moxie. We made hot chocolate.