Two Week Surrender (Hot Nights in Montana Book 1) by Manning Hayson

Author:Manning, Hayson [Manning, Hayson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-02T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Savannah threw her keys on her counter. Weariness crawled through her bones. It was late, and she hadn’t slept well since Walker had left.

The time with Miss Hattie had been great. After the blowup with Walker, she’d called Miss Hattie. It turned out Miss Hattie wasn’t feeling great and asked if Savannah could visit for a few days. She’d been on the next plane.

A few days had turned into a week and then more. If she was playing the ‘truth’ game, she’d have admitted the distraction was welcomed. Away from Montana and the ghost of Walker that still haunted her house. His scent on the pillow and sheets. The phantom weight of his arm around her waist.

Shoot me now.

Miss Hattie, it turned out, had a bad case of missing Savannah and had promptly burst into tears when she’d clamped eyes on her. Savannah had hugged the person who loved her most, and after a belly filled with Miss Hattie’s chicken soup, the sad and short story of her and Walker came tumbling out in another rush of tears. Miss Hattie had rubbed her back and told her it would pass, and she had no doubt that the right man was out there and he’d turn up.

The nights of sitting with Miss Hattie and her sister Clementine on their porch had slowly healed her.

Although Savannah didn’t want to hear it, Miss Hattie kept telling her the right man was out there.

Mr. Special will glide through your door, Savannah when you least expect it.

Well, until Mr. Special walked through her door, it was back to her and battery powered Hank.

Except that part of her anatomy had issued a shut-up-shop notice. Unless she thought about Walker, and then it sparkled to life.

Her handbag landed on the couch, and she stopped by the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She made a mental note to order packing boxes and grimaced. The sale had been handled by lawyers, and her lease was month to month. There was nothing materially holding her here.

She pulled on one of her long T-shirts, thinking that Walker would have received his by now. She’d held onto it for too long, knowing that keeping it and wearing it was only extending the pain. She’d mailed it to him along with his business card and a check—emptying her bank account to cover the money he’d paid the bank off her loan.

Hawaii, here I come.

Two months ago, when she’d thought about her new life in Hawaii, streamers had burst in her head. Now a used popper fizzled in her brain.

She crawled into bed and stared out at the land she loved, unable to kick the heaviness in her chest or the fragile beat of her heart.

The next morning Billy-Bob phoned and asked if she could come in around noon. The new owner had hired a baker, and a batch of cakes would be ready then. Savannah agreed, then sat staring out the window, refusing to think about someone else’s cakes on her pink and yellow daisy spinners.

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