For No Reason (The Camdyn Series Book 4) by Coryell Christina

Author:Coryell, Christina [Coryell, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-04-10T16:00:00+00:00

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A late summer rain pounded the pavement as I drove in silence to Rosalie’s bed and breakfast, the only sounds meeting my ears being the patter of rain against the roof and the squeak of the windshield wipers as they erased the traces of water and dust from the glass. When I slowed to turn into the drive, my eyes lifted to the white sign post and that same sight I first witnessed the night I followed Cole’s headlights into the driveway: River Rock Bed and Breakfast.

It wasn’t difficult for me to remember how lost and scared I had been that night, because the feelings were rushing back to me - not necessarily because I desired to take a trip down memory lane, or because I myself was feeling any of those emotions at the moment, but because I was imagining how the news of her father’s sudden death was going to affect Rita. Having grown up without a father, I remembered the longing and the sense of loss I felt, and I didn’t even really have any frame of reference to validate those emotions.

My eyes misted over as I pondered a way to tell Rita her father was gone.

With the car in park, I stared at the front of the two-story house, directing my gaze at the large picture window. Inside I could see straight into the kitchen, where Rosalie stood leaning her back against the counter, animatedly waving her arms, and Rita stood across from her, nearly doubled over with laughter as she held a wooden spoon in her hand. She straightened up, began stirring something on the stove, and added her own comments to Rosalie’s, after which Rosalie shook her head and wiped her eyes. Without a doubt, they had made it into an easy friendship, and it troubled me to see it.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I closed the car door as quietly as I could and stepped toward the front porch, mentally preparing myself. It seemed an affront to the senses to witness such giddiness in the face of the sorrow I was feeling, but I suppose that’s the very nature of loss. The fact that the world keeps on turning makes it even harder to get past the grief.

The front door made no noise as I opened it, and the two of them were too involved in their conversation to notice the additional person in the room, so I tiptoed over to the couch and witnessed the inappropriate friendship in all its glory.

“…and just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, his daughter walked around the corner and tripped over the upended rug. She slammed into this vase in the corner, and it flew into the wall. There were broken pieces of pottery everywhere.”

“Oh, Rosalie.” Rita laughed, letting out a sigh. “Was Elliott angry?”

“No, are you kidding? He couldn’t catch a sight of breath, he was chuckling so hard. And I was just standing there, red-faced and practically humiliated. You want to know what

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