The Worst Best Friend: A Small Town Romance

Luckily, I’ve never run into him then.

I show up early for a reason. Well before it’s time to start prepping breakfast for our guests.

He’s always home with his truck in the driveway. Not the oversized navy-blue monster truck he brings to the rallies, but a regular black pickup.

Something piques my attention through my irritation and I sit up, listening intently.

My room is in the more private area of the house, connected to Gram’s by a Jack and Jill bathroom.

Wait.

There it is again.

Almost like...there’s someone moving around, trying to be quiet, only they bumped into something in the sitting room. Quietly, I climb out of bed and go through the bathroom to check on Gram.

I can hear her snoring even before I open the door to her room.

I swallow thickly, knowing there’s only one other person in the house—at least, there should be.

Carson.

Our other guest checked out this morning and it’ll be a day or two before we get new arrivals, unless unexpected travelers show up.

I trek back through the bathroom into my room and tiptoe to the main door, straining to listen more closely.

My heart hangs in my throat, thudding fast.

Then something vibrates like an angry hornet and I almost leap out of my skin.

I run across the room and grab my phone, which is buzzing away on the nightstand.

A new text message?

I don’t click on the icon to see who it’s from because it gives me an idea.

While walking back to the door, I pull up my contacts and then the B&B and click CALL.

A moment later, the backup phone in the private sitting room starts ringing, followed by a deeper, plodding noise.

Footsteps.

Sure enough. Hurried, skittering footsteps.

Carefully, I undo the lock and crack open the door to my room a sliver.

There’s a clicking noise, a frenzied rush of breath, and a door being closed. The one that leads into the rest of the house.

I’m sure I locked that door after Nancy left. Standard security.

The door lock, definitely, but maybe not the deadbolt?

Damn.

With my heart still pounding, I emerge and race across the dimly lit sitting room and throw myself against the door, locking both the knob lock and the deadbolt. I click on the light and glance around the room.

Empty, of course, but someone was sneaking around...weren’t they?

And was that someone Carson? But why?