Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,25
Amelia? The Gloryhole Killer?”
I’m not embarrassed in the least. Sunny’s no stranger to my obsession with all things B-horror and true crime. I open my mouth to tell her about the book, but she reads me correctly, holding a hand up and stopping me.
“Nope. Don’t want to know. I don’t need to be put off truck stops for the rest of my life because of whatever sick fuckery is written in that piece of fiction.”
“But, Sunny, it’s terrific! Or, I guess, really bad. However you want to look at it. It’s like half trashy crime novel and super terrible seventies porno all rolled into one story. You see, there’s a psycho killer going around what they think are garden shears and—”
“Nope!” she cries, cutting me off and shaking her finger at me. “You know how squeamish I get when it comes to these kinds of stories, so I don’t care. Not going to listen to you. What I am going to do is head back up and get out of this heat. I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, and if I don’t cool off and lie down before work, I’ll be a total grump behind the bar tonight. You want to stay here with that nonsense or come back with us?”
I glance along the shore, noticing that no one else is around. The sun’s high in the sky, its rays beating down, but there’s a gentle little breeze coming off that lake that doesn’t make it too unbearable. I make a mental note to be liberal with the sunscreen because burning on my first full day here is not on the agenda.
I push my sunglasses back up and roll over onto my stomach, getting comfortable on my towel. “I think I’ll stay here a bit. I have nothing else to do, so I might as well enjoy the sunshine while I can.”
She glances to Joe and Sam. “Come on, boys. Let’s leave Amelia alone with her demented serial killer.” To me, she says, “Don’t stay out here too long, okay? You know you can always read in the nice air-conditioned house.”
“I won’t, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll alternate by taking dips in the lake if I start to feel too heated. And I have plenty of water. I’ll stay hydrated. Just one more chapter and I’ll come in. You know I need to build my base tan.”
Sunny rolls her eyes, knowing it’s never just one more chapter. “All righty. See ya.”
The three of them trudge off as I reopen my book. I’m so engrossed in the story, desperate to see how Detective Cochran and Dr. Roscoe plan on solving the gruesome crime spree that’s rampant across truck stops in the Midwest, that I nearly jump out of my skin when something wet hits the small of my back.
Even though I have a very fond appreciate for all things horror, that doesn’t mean I don’t get the bejeezus scared out of me at the tiniest little thing. My book falls to the side as I yelp, completely forgetting myself when I roll over to see who’s interrupted my reading.
I really forget myself when I see the object of my latest affection grinning down at me. I’m breathing heavy from the momentary fear—or the lust coursing through me. He’s watching me through dark sunglasses. I wish like hell I could see his eyes. As if he’s read my mind, he lifts his glasses to reveal delighted brown eyes that appear lighter, more mischievous, in the sunlight than they did last night.
“Nice to see you, Amelia,” he says, my name considerably long and drawn out.
The glimpse of amusement on his face heats my cheeks, but when his eyes trail down from my face to my chest and I realize why he’s amused, I nearly shriek. Then his lips curve into a devilish grin, and he allows the glasses to fall back down and cover his eyes.
I was captivated by my book and then so utterly surprised at the cool sensation on my back that I completely forgot I’d unhooked my bikini top to minimize the tan lines. And, now, said bikini top is next to me on the towel, my breasts bared for all to see.
Sitting up at breakneck speed, I cover my chest and glare at him. “Why the hell did you sneak up on me like that?”
Knox throws a towel next to mine and sets down a boombox playing “I Wanna Be Your Lover” by Prince. How in the