A motor-mouth southern belle tries playing detective only to collide with a dangerously sexy biker.
Ellie Robinson takes it upon herself to secretly vacay to Sunny Valley, Alabama, on her best friend's behalf. There, Ellie uncovers a shocking truth...
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"Their names are Darcy, Bingley, Paul, and Josephine Foster," I say for the billionth time today.
I swear every time those names roll off my tongue, I get more and more irritated. Why? Because I'm no closer to getting answers and I've been here for two days already. So far, Sunny Valley, Alabama can't even compare to Kentucky.
"Nope never heard of them," the waitress says as she wipes down the counter in front of me. "You going to order something?"
I sigh. "Yeah, I'll take coffee, black, please. Hopefully, some caffeine will help this dumb headache."
"Been there. I'll get that for you."
The letter in my hand is light, but there's never been so much weight to a piece of paper. I don't know why I'm so hell-bent on this. All I know is that Addie deserves answers and she's been through enough to get hurt again. So, I took it upon myself to find the truth for her.
Rach is gone because she got called back on duty, Shae is busy with the new building he's creating literally from the ground up, Nick and Quinn are in the process of converting the two ranches, and Addie is up to her nose with taking over Mr. Petrov's dance studio since he retired.
I'd say she's also dealing with wedding planning, but let's be honest, I started doing that the minute Quinn proposed to Addie, and she had happily allowed me full reign. Her only demand was that the wedding didn't happen until Rach came back.
I love that girl with all my heart.
The diner door opens and I don't pay any attention to the new customers as I try to figure out what to do next by smacking the base of my palm against my forehead.
"Think, Ellie, think."
This is a small town and if these people still live here, then there's no way I won't find them. If they aren't, well, I wasted vacation time then. I groan at the thought, but hey, you have to start somewhere, right?
The waitress comes back and places a massive mug in front of me. My arm hairs prickle and I clear my throat. "Uh, I'm sorry, is there any way I can have a smaller cup?"
Her brow quirks and her mouth presses into an annoyed line, making her dried pink lipstick crack a little. "These are the only mugs we have. It's what we're known for."
"Oh, of course, I'm sorry, that's totally fine."
She rolls her eyes, actually rolls her eyes at the customer! Then walks away.
I glare at the mug and mumble at it, "You're too big. You shouldn't be that big. My hands can't even fit around you."
The tension in my fingers is almost painful as I grip the mug.
At least it's warm.
"What's wrong with a normal-sized coffee mug? This is more like a bowl. I'm sippin' coffee from a bowl."
