Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“That’s romantic.”
She grins. “And a great excuse to procrastinate. I’m supposed to be writing.”
“It’ll still be there later.”
“And my editor will be happy to remind me.”
Her name is called inside, and she stands. “That’s me. Enjoy your sunshine, Hannah. I’ll see you next week.”
“Have a great day.”
She leaves, and I check my phone for the time. I need to get to the office. My appointments for the day started late, which I like because sleeping in is my jam. Most babies think it’s hilarious to make their grand entrance in the middle of the night, so I take as many mornings as I can off. I also agreed to go to a party this evening for some leggings that are supposed to be the most comfortable thing in the world.
I have no idea why I have to go to a party to buy them, like Tupperware, instead of just buying them in a store, but nevertheless, I agreed to go.
I’m regretting that now.
If it makes me a bad person to secretly hope and pray that someone, anyone, goes into labor so I don’t have to go to that party, well, then I guess I’m a bad person.
I toss my trash in the garbage and get in my car, already thinking about my first appointment. I back out of my parking space, and bam!
I’m rear-ended.
I lay my forehead on the steering wheel. I don’t have time for this. I wasted all of my extra time drinking coffee with Drake and basking in the sunshine. I whip my seatbelt off and jump out of my car, ready to survey the damage.
And stepping out of his red truck is Brad Hull.
Tall, broad, soft-spoken Brad Hull, who also happens to be a cop in Cunningham Falls.
Not just any cop. No, he’s the newly appointed chief of police.
And sexier than just about any man I’ve ever seen.
And trust me when I say, I’ve seen a lot of men. Not necessarily intimately, but I’ve seen them just the same.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine. You must not have been going very fast.”
His lips twitch, making me wonder what’s so funny.
“I was stopped dead,” he replies. “You ran into me.”
“Uh, no, I didn’t.” I prop my hands on my hips and do my best to glare at him. It helps that the sunshine is so bright.
“You did.”
I frown and look at our vehicles, relieved to see that there’s no damage.
“I definitely didn’t run into you. I looked in my mirror and no one was there.”
He nods twice. “Or, I was there, but you were thinking of other things.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, ma’am,” he says immediately. “I’m not on duty, and there’s no damage. But I am not lying either when I say that I was not moving when you hit me.”
I narrow my eyes and take a long, deep breath. “Are you going to handcuff me?”
His eyebrows climb in surprise, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I don’t mean like that.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
I laugh again and brush my hair over my shoulder. “Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“I’m not going to be arrested?”
“No, ma’am.”
I nod. “Great. I have to get to work.”
“We should exchange numbers,” he says with a smile. “That’s the customary thing to do when you’re in an accident.”
“We weren’t—” I shake my head. “Fine.” I reach in my car and grab a card out of my purse. “Here’s my number. Let me know if I need to cover any damage done to your truck.”
“Will do,” he says. “Drive safely.”
I wrinkle my nose at him and climb back in the car, late for my first appointment. Starting the day already behind doesn’t bode well. Just as I pull in the parking lot of my practice, my phone pings with a text.
We should have dinner tonight to discuss our accident.
I laugh out loud as I reply.
I already have plans tonight.
As I reach for the door, it pings again.
Tomorrow night, then. You can’t say no. I’m the law.
I bite my lip, thinking it over, and decide what the hell.
Fine, but you’re buying me dinner.
Deal.
***
Not one baby in this whole town decided to save me from the leggings party this evening. Which means that rather than go home and change into something comfy so I can binge watch a whole season of Scandal on Netflix, I’m sitting in my dear friend Grace’s living room, watching other women I don’t know browse through racks and racks of not just leggings, but also tops, dresses, and kimonos as well.
I’m standing in the corner with a Coke in my hand, chatting with Grace.
“This house still makes my jaw drop,” I inform her as I stare up at her cathedral ceiling. Grace and her new husband, Jacob, live in a multi-million dollar home on the lake, complete with boathouse and slip. Jacob is a real estate mogul from England who happened to purchase the ski resort, along with several local restaurants, in the past few years. But the most important thing is, no matter how much money Jacob has, he makes my friend ridiculously happy.