Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I narrowed my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was more upset knowing that Harper and Gavin had gone on a date, serious or not, or that she’d considered that part of her life a phase. “That phase?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m not sure what she meant by it, either. But we can all agree that I’m not very good at understanding women.”
We all laughed, and James held up his beer. “You’re not alone, little brother; you are not alone.”
We clinked bottlenecks, then James quickly dove into a conversation about the police force, and I tried my hardest to pay attention to what he said. Now and then, though, I’d catch a glimpse of Harper, or hear her laugh, and my heart would feel as if it were tripping over itself.
Based on what my friends had said, and the fact that Harper obviously had no clue where Sean was tonight…
Something was off—and I was going to find out what the hell it was.
Harper
My head pounded as I leaned forward and rested it in my hands for what felt like the millionth time that morning.
My aunt Olivia walked in from the back and stopped. “Did you take some aspirin like I told you to?”
I wanted to groan at her too-loud question, but instead I stood straight and replied, “I did.”
“Your momma would’ve never gone out on a work night, Harper. If she did, she knew how much she could handle. People are depending on you to make their arrangements.”
Blowing out a breath, I turned to face my beloved aunt. She was older than my mother, had been a nurse for several years and only recently retired. I was hesitant when my mother asked me to give Aunt Olivia a job at the flower shop. Now I remembered why. The woman was forever in my business.
“Aunt Olivia, it was a rough weekend, and I didn’t overindulge. I simply drank the wrong drink.”
“How many times?” she asked, her mouth twitching in the corner in a sad attempt to hide her sarcasm.
The bell above the door rang, and I closed my eyes.
“That’s what I thought,” Aunt Olivia cackled.
When I looked up and saw it was Brystol, I made my way over to her. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You look hung over as well,” Aunt Olivia said, as she gave Brystol a once-over.
Brystol huffed. “Always good seeing you too, Olivia.”
My aunt attempted not to laugh—and failed. “Oh, I remember those days, girls. You both need a bloody mary.”
Brystol moaned. “If wishes were fishes.”
Aunt Olivia laughed again.
“I know where we can get one, though,” Brystol said, taking my hand in hers. “Olivia, hold the fort for a bit?”
Waving her hand for us to leave, Olivia took over the arrangement I’d been working on as Brystol guided me out the back and into the alley.
“Why are we going out through the back?” I asked.
“I don’t want anyone seeing where we’re going.”
I laughed, then stopped when it made my head hurt worse. “Where are we going?”
She walked next door and started up the back steps to the apartment above her toy shop. Did she keep a secret stash of hangover cures up there?
“I thought you were going to rent this place out,” I said when we reached the landing.
“I did.”
She knocked on the door…and I tried to ignore the sudden warning bells going off in my head.
“Who rented it?”
The door opened, and I had my answer.
Staring at us was Declan. His hazel eyes danced with curiosity and a bit of amusement.
“Brystol. Harper.”
Putting her hands in a prayer position, Brystol said, “Please tell me you have the makings for a bloody mary, Declan.”
He pushed the door to the apartment open and said in his deep, soothing voice, “Come on in. I’ll make you both one.”
Brystol sighed in relief and tugged me into the apartment.
I hadn’t been up here in a number of years, not since Brystol had taken over running the toy store when her mom retired. She’d updated the furniture but left all the original fixtures of the old building; it was a charming little place. The living, dining, and kitchen areas were one big open space, with the windows in the living room looking out over Main Street.
There was a sofa, a love seat, a dining room table that seated four, and the kitchen had a bar with three stools. If I remembered right, it was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom. Off to one side of the living room was a bar area, that I assumed Brystol must have added at some point. It was fully stocked, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was left over from the previous tenant or if Declan stocked it.
“You moved in here?” I asked, looking around. There were no boxes, nothing personal out at all. The apartment was definitely cute but lacked any sort of homey feeling.