Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Sloan blinked. “He’s a writer.” She didn’t believe it any more now than she had when Jessica told her, but she wasn’t about to let the older woman kill him out of hand. “I invited him over, so please don’t shoot him.” Frankly, she didn’t particularly want to see him while she was still all twisted up over what had happened this morning, but she wasn’t about to tell Sorcha that. And, judging from the brown paper bag in his hands, he’d successfully tracked down the pills for her. “Please.”
With a sigh, Sorcha lowered the gun. “Next time, young man, knock. It’s rude to just walk in.” She shifted to face Sloan, the gun pointed carefully at the ground. “I’m going to wash the stink of travel off me. Deal with this Neanderthal and get him out of here. We’re due for a dinner to get to know each other.” She turned and walked into the primary bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.
Sloan was definitely going to have a discussion with Teague about expectations. He’d told her that Sorcha was a nice older woman who was a bit eccentric. After that encounter, Sloan was inclined to think she was off her rocker.
Though she couldn’t fault the woman for mistaking Jude for a hired gun. He carried himself with confidence, and danger practically emanated from him. But a criminal? A murderer? It was too far-fetched, even for her life. She nodded at the bag. “I’ll take that.”
He didn’t immediately move, a strange look on his face. “We need to talk, Sloan. Actually talk.”
She knew that, but she didn’t have the emotional fortitude to deal with it today. She shook her head. “We will, but as you heard—I have plans tonight. I get done at the diner tomorrow at two. We can talk then.” She didn’t ask if he was free.
Jude hesitated and then nodded. “Tomorrow, then.” He set the bag on the counter and walked out without another word.
* * *
Sloan wasn’t sure what to think of the woman sitting across from her. They’d driven up to Cannon Beach for dinner, and Sorcha had put on an album of show tunes so loudly, there’d been no way to attempt to hold a conversation. Not that Sloan minded. She’d relished the ability to sit and just think for a little bit.
Jude was…She didn’t know how to put it into words. Jude was a problem, if only because he brought forth a side of her she’d never known existed. Being in the same room with him made her feel wild and bold and a thousand other things she couldn’t afford. She wasn’t those things. Not really.
And then they’d gone and broken a condom.
She’d taken one of the pills he brought her as soon as he’d left, but there were no guarantees. She could be pregnant. She shuddered at the thought.
“That boy is nothing but trouble.” Sorcha eyed the glass in front of her and filled it with wine from the bottle she’d ordered as soon as they walked through the door. “Gorgeous, and most likely an animal in bed, but trouble nonetheless.”
Sloan blushed and accepted the glass of wine. “With all due respect, ma’am, it’s none of your business.”
She narrowed brown eyes remarkably like Callie’s at Sloan. “That’s the beauty of getting old, my dear. I can say whatever I damn well please and you have to be respectful back. Now tell me, how is it you know my niece?”
“You don’t know?” She’d agreed to have Sloan here without knowing a single thing about her? The thought was downright preposterous. “Surely Callie told you.”
“Callista and I are just beginning to feel each other out. My fool brother never reached out to me when she was a child and so I didn’t even know she existed until a few months ago.”
“I…” What was she supposed to say to that? “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t expect you to.” Sorcha sat back, looking like a queen who’d wandered into this part of the world. Carrigan did that, too. She owned every space she walked into, no matter what the situation.
But if Sloan could face down Jude, she could face down this woman. She straightened in her chair. “Callie is my sister-in-law.”
“Yes, she did mention you’re one of those O’Malleys.”
“Why did you ask if you already knew?” Irritation made Sloan’s voice sharp.
Sorcha smiled. “There it is. I was wondering if you had a backbone at all with how you cower so.”
Irritation bled to anger. She’d been testing her? Sloan was so incredibly tired of being tested, played with, and manipulated. She’d come to Oregon to get away from that, not to jump through more hoops. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, Sorcha, since I don’t know a single thing about you?”
The woman idly swirled her wine. “Yes, let’s get this silly small talk out of the way. I was born a Sheridan, and like yourself, I didn’t much like the idea of being treated like chattel. I would have hoped those old fools had learned from their mistakes and realized us women have much better heads for politics and power, but my niece tells me little has changed. Idiots, all of them.” She sighed theatrically. “I was young and in love with a beautiful man and, when my father and brother threatened to kill my lover, we eloped. I haven’t been back to Boston since.”