Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You have a prodigious vocabulary.” I offer my hand. “I’m Scarlet Stone.”
His eyes flit between mine and my hand a few times before he releases the armrest. “Nolan Moore.” He squeezes my hand like I’m holding his dangling body off the side of a bridge.
I squeeze his in return just as tight. Oscar said a handshake says a lot—do it with confidence or not at all.
“American?” I choose not to be outwardly presumptuous.
He nods.
I rest my head back and close my eyes, giving myself a nice pat on the back for being friendly.
“W-wedding.”
Aannd … here we go. More small talk. “Sorry?”
Nolan’s hands fist on his legs as we bounce through the clouds. “Wedding. I was here for a wedding. A friend of mine from college got married in Farnham.”
“Oh. Wonderful. Very well then.” I resume my napping position.
“I’m from Savannah, Georgia.” Nolan’s shaky hands accept the small bottle of Jack, a Coke, and a glass of ice from the air hostess. He smiles, nerves still shaking his lips a bit.
Perhaps he’s only this chatty when he’s nervous.
“Really? That’s where I’m going. I was born in Savannah.”
On a sideways glance, he narrows one eye. “You clearly sound like you’re from Savannah, Georgia.”
“Cheeky.” I wink at him.
“Yes, cheeky, because we say that a lot in Savannah.” He sips his drink. “Are your parents originally from London or Savannah?”
I surrender. Nolan is friendly or needy, or a mix of both.
“My dad is originally from London and my mum came to London from the Caribbean.” I point to my hair, tight curls celebrating a holiday from hours of being straightened into submission. “Thank you, Mum, for the hair.” I grin.
“Against doctors’ orders, she traveled with my dad to Atlanta for his business trip when she was thirty-five weeks pregnant with me. They drove down to Savannah on the last day of the trip to have some beach time, and my mum went into labor. The ten-day trip turned into a month before they took me home to London. I haven’t been back to Savannah since.”
A flirty smile teases his lips, shedding the tension from his rigid posture. “How many years has it been since you were last in Savannah?”
My eyelashes sweep up, and I blink at him a few times before chuckling. “That’s a very smooth approach to asking my age.”
He shrugs, taking another sip of his drink.
“Thirty-one years.”
“What’s taking you back to Savannah?” This bloke fires endless questions.
Staring at my fingers drumming on my leg, I twist my lips. “Hmm … good question. I suppose the easiest answer is that one day I realized my life was not going in the direction I thought it was. Not to sound cliché, but it was a crossroad and I had to make a decision. West. I chose west.”
“Intriguing. Is this trip temporary or permanent?”
After contemplating the meaning of each word, I reply, “Both.” At some point, the fact that I sold most of my belongings and decided to leave home forever may very well hit me; if I were leaving a large family, friends, even so much as a gold fish, I think I’d feel the impact of this life-altering moment. Daniel is gone, living the life he was meant to live, and Oscar could die of some flesh-eating disease from his communal underwear before his time is served.
Nolan chuckles. “Fair enough. I’m a stranger on a plane. We don’t have to get personal. Eleven hours of small talk works for me.”
Of course it does. “Fabulous.” My lips pull into a tight grin.
His expectant gaze makes me shift in my seat.
I let out a controlled breath that doesn’t sound too exasperated, then I smile. “Tell me what you do in Savannah, Mr. Moore.”
“Well, Miss Stone, I flip homes and of recent, I’ve started dabbling in commercial real estate development. My father has had his hand in real estate for years, but he’s getting bored with it so I’ve inherited his ‘hobby.’”
“Do you have any houses to rent?”
“No … well, one. Why?”
“I haven’t secured a place to stay, yet.”
“I could give you some names, other property owners. The one I have is on Tybee Island, a beachfront house with a single room and shared kitchen. The other room is already rented. Probably not what you’re looking for.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need more than a room.”
His nose wrinkles. “Yeah, but it’s only available for six months. That’s when the other renter is moving out and then the place will go on the market. It will likely sell within a day of listing it.”
Six months. I can’t believe he said six months.
“I’m interested. Six months is perfect.”
“Really?”
I nod.
Nolan bites his lips together. “I forgot to mention … the other renter is a guy, an old friend of mine.”
“Rapist? Murderer? Weird fetishes? Smelly? Loud snorer?”
He laughs. “I can’t say for sure on the snoring. We haven’t slept in the same room since we were in our late teens. It’s possible he has a weird fetish that I don’t know about, but I’m going out on a limb and saying ‘no’ to the rapist or murderer. However, he does most of the construction and remodeling for me with the homes I flip, so occasionally he might smell like sweat and sawdust, but I imagine the smell washes off when he showers.”