Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
But the ground doesn’t open, of course.
And when Archer releases one hand, I don’t even fight to free the other. There’s something comforting about the way his huge fingers envelop my skinny wrist.
“We’ll work something out,” he tells me. “Whatever the hell I think, it’s not a hard rule. I could be convinced.”
There’s something so weirdly reassuring about his promise, this steely-eyed stranger bending rules for me in my darkest hour.
All I can do is nod as he leads me back to the cabin.
4
ALL BEES-NESS (ARCHER)
Ishould have fucking known this would happen.
First Dexter, with Haute and Junie and that whole fake fiancée mess. Then Patton and Salem with his surprise son and an unthinkable betrayal that brought them together.
Two marriages.
Two ridiculous, dangerous situations that could’ve torpedoed the company and a whole lot more.
Now, it’s my turn at the drama wheel.
All over a damn woman.
Thankfully, I’m immune to falling in love.
Been there, done that. Mistakes made and lessons learned.
That’s what happens every time, though, whether we like it or not. Maybe it’s some weird curse on the men in the Rory family.
After witnessing my brothers’ chaos, I always figured trouble might find me again someday.
Still, I never expected it to come from a woman this young and troubled.
Not from this annoyingly strange, beautiful, wounded, bee-obsessed weirdo who’s currently wiping her face and trying to gather her thoughts. At least she’s using tissues now instead of my sleeve.
I can’t decide if she’s an easy paycheck or somebody who’ll lose it and light this place on fire. Total wild card.
She brushes her mass of coppery, curly hair back from her face, sniffling loud enough to wake the dead.
Yeah, I think the ugly tears are behind her now.
“S-sorry about that.” She hiccups and threads her fingers through her hair. It looks silky, even tangled up, and for a second I wonder what it would feel like in my hands.
Then I wrench my thoughts back to the present.
We’ve established she’s pure chaos.
There’s no predicting what she’ll do next.
If I was all cold logic, I’d take her to a psych place and get her some help right now.
Still, I can’t help feeling bad for her. I also hate that I wonder if she’s truly crazy.
There’s a big black trash bag near the front door. I’m almost positive it contains her wedding dress. Who just tosses a dress like that?
And the ice-cold message my assistant passed on to me from her father definitely confirms something’s up, even if she doesn’t want to tell me the details. Fine, I won’t press her, but I need a hint, goddammit.
Her father could be worried, knowing she’s prone to a mental crisis.
On the other hand, what if he’s the one causing her grief?
A controlling, crazy tyrant dad who wants her back so he can lock her up and keep abusing her.
I know what a fucked up place this world can be.
Still, I need something.
Reassurance this won’t blow up in my face if I help her with an extended stay against my better judgment. It shocks me that I want to help her.
Probably because she’s so broken, so desperate, so unpredictable.
People with stable minds don’t break down and swing at strangers over fucking bees.
Then again, it wasn’t really about the bees, was it?
It’s whatever’s haunting her—whatever trauma chased her here.
No matter what I do, I’m not throwing her back to the wolves and having that on my conscience.
So I nudge the tissue box closer, just in case she needs more, and rest my forearm on the breakfast bar.
“I meant to thank you for putting up with my son and his friends. You handled the shit they pulled with pure class. Also, I’m sure he’ll be grateful you’ve given him the only sugar he’s getting for the next month in non-fruit form.”
“Grounded, then?” She smiles.
“You bet. Their dumbass stunt could’ve gotten him put under house arrest for real, not just cooped up without horror movies or games.”
She gives me a lopsided smile.
“Yeah, I told them. I think I channeled my inner mom to be honest. I’ve never been the lecturing type before, but it just came out. I felt a little crappy about it. That’s why I gave them the cake.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad.”
“I called Briana ‘princess’ and told her to sit the hell down.” Her eyes turn glassy at the memory. I notice they’re a sea-glass green, shiny and bright with just enough woe glittering to draw a man to his doom.
The redness around her eyes really brings out their color, I’m sorry to say.
“You handled it better than me. If I’d found them shooting off rockets on my lawn.” The way my fist tightens says everything.
She shrugs. “I was mad at first. Then I realized they were just kids and we all do stupid stuff when we’re young. Especially when we’re talking boys trying to impress girls.”