Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
His mind wandered, the bourbon causing a pleasant fuzziness. The problem was, he compared all women to her. And they all came up short. Which was ridiculous at this point. He’d put her on a pedestal in his head because he felt guilty for what he’d done. Add that to the fact she’d been his first love, his first everything, and of course she was going to stand out. It was simple psychology, and he needed to get over it. Move on once and for all. Give someone else an actual chance to knock her from that lofty place she still held inside his heart.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose to ward off the dull headache he felt forming.
Jesus. Why was he thinking about her right now anyway? Gavin hadn’t thought about her in a long time—at least not cognizant musings. “Stress induced,” he muttered to himself as he turned away from the window, grabbed his glass, and returned to the minibar. A couple of drinks after a long day never hurt anyone. He picked up the remote control, turned on the flat-screen TV mounted to his wall, and collapsed onto his couch, where he sprawled, taking a sip of his second drink while sinking back into the buttery-soft leather.
He put his legs up on the ottoman in front of him and changed the channels until the news came on. He would have liked to have tuned into a game or something easier to zone out to, but there was nothing on. He tried to stay updated on current events in his city, though—in security, it was always good to know what was going on around you—and so the news would do.
“We go live now to a press conference at the Reno PD, where they’re asking for help from the public to identify a woman found murdered last night.”
Gavin swirled the last of his drink, his brow lowering as he looked at the sketch of the woman on the screen. She didn’t look immediately familiar, but then again, she also didn’t have any very defining characteristics. She was about his mother’s age, a little haggard looking in that way that usually meant life had been less than kind or bad choices had been made consistently enough to leave a mark, so to speak.
Still . . . someone’s mother . . . or maybe grandmother, sister, or wife. It’d be a kick to the gut to find out on the evening news your loved one had been murdered. He didn’t think the police generally went that route unless it was a case they believed needed solving ASAP because others might be at risk.
The camera panned to the side for a moment, and Gavin jolted, pulling himself completely upright and blindly setting his glass on the ottoman.
It missed, dropping to the floor instead but not shattering on the thick area rug. He left it there, instead reaching for the remote and turning the volume up. It can’t be.
The camera angle widened again, and Gavin stared. Holy shit. Sienna Walker. He felt stunned, as if somehow his very recent thoughts had come about because he’d felt her presence close by. He glanced at the news station logo, wondering if maybe he’d turned the TV to some national station and she was actually standing at a press conference with the New York City PD, where he assumed she still worked. But no, she was here, in Reno, standing among city cops, their uniforms ones he knew well because he sometimes worked with officers on some security-related issue or another. And more often than that, he had needed to call them to the casino due to some drunk and disorderly patrons who needed to be forcibly eighty-sixed.
His nerves were strung tight again, but he sat back, taking in the information the detective was presenting as she asked the public to call them about anyone who had gone missing in the past few weeks or days who resembled the woman in the drawing. Apparently, there were no suspects at the moment and no missing person cases that fit the victim.
He felt a little bit dizzy, his eyes trained on Sienna. Even with her hair pulled back tightly and her simple pair of gray slacks and white blouse, there was no denying her beauty. She’d been beautiful eleven years ago, and she was even more beautiful now, and he was honest enough with himself to admit that the stirring in his gut was longing. It hit him like a sledgehammer.
He’d never let go.
Even if he’d ensured she would never again be his.
CHAPTER FIVE
The bar was mostly empty, lighting low, “Fly Me to the Moon” playing softly over the sound system so it was nothing but muted background noise. Sienna picked up a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and popped it in her mouth as she turned a page on the initial autopsy report.