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“Why don’t you get some sleep on the way? You clearly need it,” he mutters, indicating he finds it highly inappropriate that anyone dare yawn during the workday.
“I’m fine,” I cut back harshly. I might have stayed up all night writing and crying, but there’s no way I’m sleeping in his fancy-pants car. Even if the seatsareheated and feel like toasty hugs.
We drive without talking, but he at least has the radio on this time. It’s some instrumental piano music. Gentle, soothing, melodic notes drift around the comfortable leather interior and I turn my face toward the window, hiding another yawn in my shoulder.
Damn it, why didn’t I get three espressos instead of a latte?
The music continues, washing over me like a gentle wave as the lanes of motorway traffic give way to green hedgerows and stretches of rolling fields.
My breathing begins to match Jet’s calm, rhythmic inhales from beside me.
“I’m not tired,” I say, my eyes fixed outside the window.
“If you say so,” he replies.
“Not tired at all.” I yawn.
Chapter 13
Ava
I wake with astart. We aren’t moving anymore. Everything’s quiet.
Jet’s gone.
I stretch, straightening in my seat. A logoed Atlantic Airways blanket slips from my chest and pools in my lap. I lift the soft fabric and a hint of Jet’s aftershave drifts toward me. My core thrums to life.
I shove the blanket off and onto the driver’s seat with a scoff.
We’re parked in front of the main offices of the Silver Estate. It’s a beautiful, period stone mansion that sits at the center of the sprawling country estate and gardens. I knew every inch of the grounds here like the back of my hand once. I haven’t been here for years. Not until the other week when I saw an event advertised.
I wasn’t sure how it would feel coming back here alone. But I did it, anyway. And I filled a few pagesof my notepad with memories. Pages that were the reason I never slept last night, and then fell asleep in Jet’s car.
I crunch over the gravel in my heels, making my way to the front door to press the bell. It takes a few moments before a young woman answers.
“Hi.” She smiles. “Are you here with Mr. Grant?”
“I am. I’m Ava.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jasmin.”
Realization dawns as I look over her face and long, dark hair.Jasmin Silver, one half of the brother-sister duo who inherited the estate from their grandparents.
“Is he inside?” I smooth the back of my hair down with one hand, conscious that it could be mussed up from my impromptu nap.
“He and Logan headed over to the warehouse.” She points to a large building in the distance. “One second, I’ll grab my car keys and take you there.”
“There’s no need.” I smile at her gratefully. “I’ll walk, I could use the air.”
She looks at me with uncertainty.
“Honestly, I love the grounds here. It’ll be nice to walk.”
I worry that she’ll offer to come with me and ask more about how I know the estate.
“They’re beautiful. We’re really lucky. The waterlilies are in bloom if you head that way.”
Relief makes me match her smile as I thank her, then walk across the gravel driveway. I step off it and onto a smooth stone path that weaves its way throughmanicured gardens in the direction of the warehouse. I’m going to miss the lake. It’s over to my right, the other side of the tree line. I rub a hand over my chest knowing it’s so close.
