Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“I was just thinking about the dinner menu. Why are you talking about sausages?”
Ian shook his head, then frowned as he took her in. Okay, so she wasn’t dressed like some of the stylish women she’d seen walking around the shopping center this morning. But she didn’t look completely terrible, right?
She glanced down at her black sweatshirt with a picture of a skull on the front and her ripped denim jeans. Her black combat boots topped off her look.
And yeah, she was roasting hot.
“It’s too hot to be wearing long sleeves,” Ian told her. “Take it off.” He reached out as though he was going to pull the sweatshirt off her. She stumbled back and would have fallen on her bum if he hadn’t grabbed her.
Unfortunately, he grabbed both of her wrists to steady her and she hissed out a pained breath.
Immediately, Ian let her go. “What happened? Did I . . . did I hurt you?”
“I, uh, it’s fine,” she told him.
“No, it’s not. How did I hurt you? Show me.”
The worry in his voice floored her. Sure, he was over-the-top. But as someone who’d rarely experienced concern over her well-being without an ulterior motive . . . his actions were something she lapped up.
“Ian, I’m fine. I need to go help Uncle Willy.”
Her uncle was currently fiddling with his camera farther down the beach and not paying either of them the slightest bit of attention.
“Maggie, I’m not letting you go until you show me where I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me. I just . . . I have a bruise on my arm and you touched it. That’s all.”
“Show me this bruise. Why did you not tell me about it before?”
“Am I supposed to show you every bruise I get?” she asked with exasperation.
“Yes. I’m responsible for you. I need to know if you’re hurt.”
“You’re mad as a hatter,” she told him.
“Maggie, this isn’t a debate.”
“Maggie, I need the other bags from the car,” Uncle Willy called out.
“I’ll get them.” She stepped away from Ian, but he grabbed her elbow. “I have to go and get the other bags.”
“I will go get them. After you show me your bruise.”
“I can carry the bags, Ian.”
“But you won’t, Maggie. Bruise. I’m willing to stand here all day until you show me.”
“Fine.” She pushed up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Happy, now?”
“No. Not at all. How did you get this?”
“I don’t know. I bruise easily. I must have banged it.”
“This doesn’t look like you banged it. It looks like someone grabbed you. Hard. Did someone do this to you? Was it me?”
“No! You’d know if you bruised me.” He looked so horrified. As though he was trying to think about whether he’d done this to her.
“Look, the truth is that Uncle Willy was feeling slightly unsteady and grabbed me to regain his balance. I bruise easily. That’s all.”
Ian’s face grew hard. “He hurt you?”
“Not on purpose.”
“Promise me.”
Sheepsbollocks.
She felt bad. But she had promised Uncle Willy before Ian. And besides, it wasn’t really a lie. Uncle Willy hadn’t really meant to hurt her.
“I promise.”
“Maggie!” Uncle Willy called out.
“Coming! Please don’t say anything to him. He’s upset that it happened.”
Ian nodded but still didn’t look happy. Maggie turned away to head up the sand dunes to where the car was parked, but he grabbed her. “I’ll get the bags.”
“It’s my job. Your job is to watch us. Remember?” she said.
“I’ll get the bags,” he repeated sternly. “You need to stop arguing.”
Such a diddlemonkey. But she decided to give him this since he wasn’t going to mention her bruised wrist. She sighed in relief.
“Maggie! I need you over here to play model,” her uncle called out.
“Coming!” she called back and jogged over.
There was something wrong.
And Ian didn’t like it.
It was just a bruise. And it could easily have happened just as she’d said.
So why didn’t he like that explanation?
“Yo, what’s up? What are you doing up here alone?”
He looked over as Jack jogged up to him. “Getting the bags.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “And taking your eyes off our charges? Not like you.”
“I can see them from here.” But he didn’t like being apart from them.
From her.
So he handed Jack one of the bags and started back down toward the beach, where William was taking photos of his niece.
Ian found himself curious about what those photos would look like. And if he could get himself a copy.
“What’s up with you? You seem even grouchier than usual.”
“There’s a bruise on her wrist.”
“What?” Jack reached out to stop him. “A bruise? From what?”
“She said that her uncle grabbed her to steady himself.”
“And you don’t believe her? Do you think this is another situation like Chloe was in?”
Chloe’s employer, who turned out to also be her father, had been abusive.
“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem at all afraid of him. And she’s not that good at hiding her thoughts and emotions.”