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Oh, well, sorry to irritate my intruder.
“She probably changed the locks, so I’m forced to go see the old bat.”
That sounds like someone who knows Estella. But why would anyone try to break into the house if they know her? And who would go see her after trying to break in?
It’s then that I remember my phone in my PJ bottoms pocket. I slip it out and dial 911. It takes two rings for someone to pick up.
“Yeah?”
“Josh?” I whisper. “This is Avery O’Bryan. I’m staying in Estella’s house on Ginger Road.”
“You mean her grandson’s house?”
“She said that she owned it.”
“I’m sure she does, but everyone knows that Jon stays there when he’s in town.”
Really? Does anyone else have an issue with getting help in a small town? Only I would have to talk to the town sheriff, who apparently is the 911 operator tonight, and discuss the ownership of the house that’s being broken into.
“Did you just call to tell me that you’re staying there?”
“No, that’s not why I called.” I try to make my whisper as fierce as I can.
“Oh, then why did you call?”
I roll my eyes. “Someone is trying to break in.”
“Be right there.”
He hangs up so fast it leaves me blinking. I peek around the corner and notice the handle wiggling again. There is also more muttering.
Dammit. The house is at least five minutes away from the police department. I think, trying to get my sleep-deprived mind to work. I remember a baseball bat in one of the rooms. I hurry to get it just in case.
By the time I get back to the stairs, the front door is opening.
Fear hits me first. It’s a small town and everyone knows everyone else, so the fact that the guy knows Estella means nothing. She’s the richest woman in the entire county. I hate being scared and because of that, I know I’m not thinking straight.
My terror fades as rage rushes through me. How dare some dude do this? I launch myself down the stairs, screaming like a banshee.
The figure stops his forward progress, probably stunned by my screech. I trip over the last two steps in my rush to get down the stairs. All of a sudden, I’m flying through the air. He catches me with an oof but tumbles backward. We both crash back over the threshold onto the massive front porch. The baseball bat goes flying and lands on the porch with a thunk.
The first thing I notice is how good he smells. Bergamot, tobacco, and something else I can’t discern tickle my nose. I had no idea burglars smelled so delicious.
I pull myself up so I can look down at him. In the porch light, I can make out his features easily. Dark hair, blue eyes with eyelashes I would kill for. There’s a dribble of blood on his fuller bottom lip. Damn, I must have hit his mouth.
Even so, he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
At that moment, Josh shows up, screeching to a halt behind the sedan the intruder apparently drove to break into the house. Once out of his car, Josh rushes to the front door, only to slow down when he sees who I am on top of.
“What the hell?” Josh says with a laugh. “When did you get back in town, Jon?”
The intruder looks up at Josh. “Is this a new thing? Did the LOLs set up someone to attack me when I got back into town?”
“No. The teenagers would have more of a reason to set that up.” Josh’s laugh barks out of him. “Avery O’Bryan, I would like you to meet Jon Howard.”
My eyes widen as I look down at the man I just attacked. His eyes narrow as they study me. He’s pissed, and for some reason, that’s apparently a turn-on for me. My nipples pebble under his frowny stare.
“Jon Howard?”
He nods, his eyes flaming with irritation.
“Now, maybe you can tell me what the fuck you’re doing squatting in my house?”
* * *
