Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
As Cordelia noisily nibbled her wet food, Jocelyn carried her laptop and glass to the sofa. Maybe a little distraction before she got to work.
She sipped her cocktail and opened the folder labeled Boring Tax Stuff, knowing damn well she wasn’t about to do accounting of any kind. The folder was a decoy.
She’d installed her camera system three years ago, after the sixth or seventh time a male reader slid into her DMs with unwanted dick pics and far too much knowledge of her location in Hideaway Bay. The cameras made her feel safe. She didn’t typically hold onto the footage, but there were a few recorded encounters worth keeping.
Particularly, the night she got blackout drunk after the lobster trap tree lighting ceremony two Decembers ago. She opened the archive folder and clicked the file labeled WTF.
The front walkway came up first, grainy in the December darkness. The cameras only recorded movement, and the motion-sensor lights clicked on the moment she lurched into frame, hanging sloppily from the arm of a dark figure in a charcoal wool coat.
When she first watched the footage, it took her a second to recognize him. But now, she could identify his body from a hundred miles away.
Snow dusted Soren’s shoulders as he did his best to keep her from falling on her ass. She wasn’t making it easy on him. The ground had been icy, and he practically had to haul her dead weight up the porch steps.
Second-hand embarrassment always flooded her when she saw what a mess she’d been that night. Thank god Soren had gotten her out of town when he did, because if anyone else had seen her that way, she would have had to move to the next town.
When she slid down his body, he set her on the top step, where she collapsed onto the porch. Flurries salted her coat and wool beanie hat, as she laughed and opened her mouth, trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue.
She laughed at what a ridiculous drunk mess she’d been, but adjusted the volume nevertheless.
Soren stood over her, futilely trying to lift her as she attempted to make snow angels on the snow-dusted planks of the porch. “Up you go.”
“Wait! I’m makin’ art here.”
“Come on, Joce.” He hoisted her into a seated position, pulling her toward his shoulder.
She twisted, gripping his lapel and laughed up at him. “Where’d you learn to grab a woman like that, Warden?”
Soren sighed as he gave up and let her fall back onto the porch.
“Hey!”
He dug through her purse. “Where are your keys?”
“There’s one under the plant, but don’t bother. S’unlocked.”
“Smart. Sensory lights and a security system with an unlocked door.”
“I’s gonna lock it.”
“No, you weren’t.” He opened the door, setting off her Chihuahua alarm. Cordelia attacked his ankles with the vigor and gusto of a rabid badger. “What the fuck?”
“There’s my baby,” she cooed, but the dog only wanted to kill Soren.
“Your baby’s an asshole! Joce, do something!”
“All right, all right. Don’t have a hissy fit, your Royal High Maintenance. Help me up.”
Soren pulled her up by her arms. Unfortunately, Jocelyn’s boneless body slipped out of her coat sleeves and gravity won.
“I’m goin’ down!” She stumbled back.
“Shit!” He caught her before she toppled off the porch step. “That’s it.” He hauled her over his shoulder like a limp noodle and she grunted when his shoulder wedged under her ribs. Then she burped and laughed.
Even now, Jocelyn found it funny. Mostly because Soren hated any female behavior that lacked class, and she loved getting under his skin.
Cordelia’s attack continued, as he hauled Jocelyn into the foyer like a sack of potatoes.
“Call your rodent off!”
Every step shoved his shoulder deeper under her ribs. “Ugh, you’re gonna make me hurl.”
“You better not fucking puke on me, Joce.” The hall camera picked up the feed as they entered the foyer. “Damn it. Make that Tasmanian devil stop barking!”
Jocelyn groaned and made a few slow kissing sounds, pitching her voice in a sing-song tone. “Who’s a pretty baby?”
“That thing’s far from pretty.” The dog continued to growl and bark as he dumped her off his shoulder onto the carpet, careless of causing her injury at this point.
Luckily, the crumpled wool coat offered a soft landing. She hooted and flung her beanie hat onto the console table, then peeled off her gloves and threw them at Soren. “You’re such a brute.” She rubbed her elbow where it had hit the ground on her rough landing.
“You did this to yourself.”
“Oh, okay, Captain Control. I forgot you hate fun.” Her foot poked straight up in the air. “Do my boots.”
“Do them yourself.” Soren wrestled the dog into the powder room as she grappled with her laces. By the time she had one boot off, she gave up and flopped back in defeat.
“You’re a wreck.” Soren crouched to help her with the other, but something shifted between them. Cordelia’s barking made it hard to make out whatever she murmured, but it was enough to make his whole body go still. Then he said something back that was also lost.