Page 16 of Rare Blend
I’m startled by what I think is a cry escaping her. My gaze flies to her face, ready to see tears rolling down her cheeks—she did just get the shit tackled out of her—but instead of crying, she’s laughing. It’s not a cute, girly laugh either—morelike a honking bird mixed with a cackling hyena. She throws her head back, unrestrained, her eyes sparkling as they pick up light from the few stars shining above. Her laugh is so unexpectedly genuine I can’t stop my lips from lifting into a smile. Our eyes meet, and we both deflate, laughing together at the sheer ridiculousness of what just happened.
My shoulders shake, my fist covers my mouth, and a wheezing laugh crawls up my throat. It feels good to laugh a real laugh. And for the dumbest fucking reason, my greedy dog and his addiction to hot dogs. The tension I’ve been carrying in my back begins to unravel, loosening like a tightly wound spring finally releasing its grip. The stress, the pressure, and the anxiety are carried away with each breath. I look to the cackling woman, astounded that such a hideous sound can be attached to someone very far from hideous, and it makes me laugh harder.
After a while, her awful laughter fades into a phlegmy cough, and I’m jarred back into reality, the slap-happy feeling dissolving as quickly as it appeared. Reality sets in, and I’m reminded she could very well be some unhinged criminal.
“I’m not following you,” she clarifies, her breathing still irregular.
I cross my arms and raise my shoulders with a firmer stance. “Then what are you doing out here? This is private property.”
The atmosphere between us takes a dive. Her eyes narrow, looking up at me with an icy, penetrating stare. The speed at which her eyes shifted from wide and bright to cold and detached is startling.
“I’m staying there.” She points to the cottage to the left of mine.
“That’s not possible.”
She rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips. If I wasn’t so weary of her, I’d find her display of determination slightly comical given her short height.
“What part of ‘I’m staying there’ do you not understand?”
“See that name right there?” I tell her, pointing to the arched, wrought iron sign at the end of the pathway that says Ledger on it. “That’s my name, Ledger. Ethan Ledger.”
Her eyes cut back to mine, unimpressed. Bored even. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“My land. My winery. My cottages.”
A sharp laugh escapes her lips. She’s laughing at me, and the tips of my ears singe. I don’t know who this woman thinks she is, but she’s dangerously close to getting tossed on her ass by the cops I’m seconds away from calling.
“All I heard wasmy, my, my.” She laughs again, and it grates my ears like a goddamn crow cawing in the dead of night. “Lighten up, crabby pants. My dad set this up for me with some guy named Jack. Take it up with him.”
I should’ve known my dad had something to do with this. Just another thing he couldn’t be bothered to tell me about. I whip out my phone, not giving a single fuck what time it is. I should’ve been informed of this. While I wait for the call to connect, Goose trots up to our intruder and starts rubbing his head on her legs.Guard dog, my ass.I expect her to shoo him away, but instead she pets him mindlessly, giving him gentle little scratches along his head. He soaks in the attention, tail wagging.
Traitor.
The phone rings three times before my dad picks up.
“Hello?” His voice is gravelly, and a pang of guilt hits me. I could’ve waited until the morning. It’s not as if she’s an actual threat. But then I remember he’s been a lot less helpful in this transition than I thought he would be, leaving me to figure things out blindly, and some of the guilt dissipates.
“Did you book someone to stay in the cottage next to mine?”
“Sure did,” he says, sounding more awake.
There’s no way she heard my dad through the phone, but the satisfied smile she’s shooting my way says otherwise.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I ask through gritted teeth.
He yawns, an exaggerated, long yawn. “Slipped my mind.”
“You should’ve told me. Goose attacked her because he thought she was sneaking around.”
He groans, cursing under his breath. “It was an honest mistake. Is she hurt?”
My eyes rake over her, and I let myself indulge slightly with her focus off me and firmly on my dog. She’s attractive, there’s no doubt about it. But I have an aversion to women who are too attractive for their own good. They blind you with their beauty, making it difficult to see what’s been right in front of you the entire time. I don’t know why she’s here, and I don’t know for how long, but I don’t like it one bit.
“She’s fine.”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s good. She’s Robert’s daughter, so be nice to her, will you?”
I’d never guess the two were related. Robert, a pale, average looking white guy, who doesn’t look nearly old enough to have an adult daughter, looks nothing like the olive-skinned, brown-eyed woman before me. She clearly takes after her mother.
