Beautiful Savage by Sorbe Lisa

Author:Sorbe, Lisa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lisa Sorbe
Published: 2020-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

I’m barely out of my Navigator when a shadow falls over the hood.

The man is handsome, in a brutish sort of way, with a body that, at some point, more than likely excelled at one sport or another. Football or wrestling, if I had to guess. He’s older than I am; the steely gray of his hair tells me he’s probably nearing his fifties. But his eyes carry a youthful shine, a mischievousness that belies his age.

I’ve never seen him before, yet there’s something about him that feels…familiar. Like I’m in the presence of someone I know. Intimately.

Shit. Oh, shit.

It’s my peeper, out from the shadows.

He approaches with a frat boy swagger.

I reach into my pocket and wrap my hand around Hollis’s thumb drive, shielding the most precious thing I own from the impending shitstorm headed my way.

When he’s within arm’s reach, he offers his hand. “Mrs. Crane, I presume?”

I consider his gesture, and he responds to my questioning look by tilting his head in the direction of the mailbox at the end of our long drive, which bears the name Crane in flowing script.

Duh.

Offering a small smile, I nod and give his hand a quick shake.

“Randall Beaumont.” His grin is flashy and perfect and full of teeth so white they’re practically blinding in the late afternoon sun. “My wife and l live next door,” he explains, throwing a nod in the direction of his house. “I was doing some yard work when you pulled up and thought it’d be a good time for us to…connect.”

This may be completely innocent. For all I know, Randall Beaumont could be a standup kind of guy, merely wanting to establish a neighborly camaraderie so that when he someday ambles over to borrow a cup of sugar, I’m more likely to loan it to him.

But he’s dressed in black slacks and a sleek pinstriped button down that’s rolled up at the elbows, which is hardly appropriate attire for yard work. And there’s something about the way he said connect, the slight dip in his voice implying a darker meaning to the word. It’s as if he’s referring to some secret, inside joke that only we know.

And he’s right. Because if this is about what I think it’s about, I very much want to keep what we’ve been doing in our backyards a secret.

I give the thumb drive a gentle squeeze, as if I can somehow siphon strength from the images it holds. “Well, it was nice to meet you. But I’m kind of in a time crunch, so—”

“There’s no need to rush off, Rebecca. We’ve got plenty of time. All the time we need, actually.” Randall looks like a man used to getting what he wants, and the confident way he speaks reminds me of Nicholas. Like my husband, he’s assertive, though subtly so…to the point that you don’t even realize you’re doing his bidding until you’re knee deep in it.

Unfortunately for him, I’m hip to this game. I’ve lived and learned under the master, have seen it all, and no random asshole is going to make me his bitch.

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