Page 9 of Quietly Falling
The guy is all dark hair and chiseled features and muscles—so many muscles.He’s got that dark and mysterious thing going for him, and it’s so damn hot I can barely stand it most days. He’s always polite when he comes in. He orders the same coffee but changes up his snack choice depending on if he comes in the morning or afternoon, and I’ve been dying to get him to smile.
I have a feeling that smile will melt the panties off any woman who catches a glance, and while I’d rather be the sole recipient of that particular feat, I couldn’t deprive anyone of such a magnificent sight.
“We’ll just have to find someone for you while you’re here.”
“No locals,”we say in unison, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. I may not be from Trappers Ridge, but I’ve spent enough time there to feel like one.
And I’m not interested in any of the candidates in the dating pool there.
“Just make sure the cabin is ready,” I tell her. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“One month, girl.”
One month.
5
BODHI
The house is quiet as I move from the kitchen into the living room, the sound of the dogs’ snoring a gentle hum as I drop into the recliner and stare at the book in my hand. The romance novel isn’t my first choice—honestly, it wasn’t my choice at all.
No, this particular read was courtesy of Sorren Mackay when he tossed it to me and saidcongratulations, you’re in book club now.
Book club.
On the plus side, book club consists of a group chat—usually Sorren and his friend Hayden arguing over spoilers, tropes, and more recently the cliff-hanger in the book they read before this one.
I’d been silent so far, just taking it all in, much like I am as I flip the book over in my hands. I don’t hate it, but being a part of something, even something as innocuous as book club, feels like I’m getting tied down here with no hope of escape.
Do I want to escape?
“Nothing in this world is easy; that’s why we don’t walk the road alone.”
It’d been the last thing Sorren said to me six months ago before he’d driven me home, my phone ringing the next day to make sure I’d be at dinner—a silent promise thathewouldn’t let me walk the road alone.
And he hadn’t.
But the uncertainty of it all still had me crawling out of my skin. Setting the book down, I grab my phone and type out a message.
BODHI: Anything yet?
OAKDEN: I told you—when I have something I’ll let you know
Frustration claws at me,and the fact that so much of this is a waiting game has me nearly crawling out of my skin. But I’d known it would be this way.
You have help this time.
It’s the one thing that keeps me from getting in my car and taking off for New Hampshire. True to his word, Tom Oakden has been keeping me updated with any and all progress made on Audrey’s case.
Just thinking her name has a wave of grief washing over me, my hand clenching the book still in my lap as I try to breathe through the loss.
The anger.
The hope that we’ll be able to put her case to rest for the last time the only thing tethering me to the present.
Setting my phone down, I debate my decision for only a second before padding my way through the house to my bedroom. The room is neat and clean, like the rest of the house, devoid of almost all personal touches because I still can’t wrap my head around the idea that this could be permanent.
Even though we’ve been here for a couple of years now.
