Scheming Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend #3) Read Online Ivy Layne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Series by Ivy Layne
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
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All at once, his face came into focus in my memory. Crap. This wasn't just any hot guy. This was a Sawyer. Royal? Tenn? I knew they both worked at the Inn, so odds were it was one of them.

The idea of approaching this hot, cranky man had my knees shaking. I wasn't afraid of men in general. Usually, I could hold my own just fine, even with oversized, annoyed men.

This one was more than I wanted to handle, especially in my ancient shorts and rumpled shirt, running on zero coffee and way too little sleep. I was far from my best, but I was going to have to woman-up anyway. I was in Sawyers Bend for a reason, and it was likely my best lead was about two seconds from marching right past me.

It was Go-Time.

Thinking only of Thatcher, I stood up from my crouch and stepped into the gravel path, bumping right into cranky-hot-guy. Instinctively, he stopped, hands coming up to steady me.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked in a deep voice.

"I think so," I said, my voice weak and fluttery in a way it rarely was in real life. I swayed, bracing myself by pressing my hand to his chest. I tried to ignore the sudden flash of heat at the feel of that firm, muscled chest.

No way, Scarlett. You have a job to do, remember?

I did remember. Didn't stop the need. This close, cranky-hot-guy smelled as good as he looked. So good, the swoon was on the verge of becoming real. Woodsy, salty, and undeniably male. How could he smell sweaty and clean at the same time?

Focus, Scarlett. Fortunately, I didn't need to think of what to say.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked politely. "Are you a guest at the Inn?" His eyes narrowed as if trying to place me in his memory.

"Just out for an early walk," I dodged. "I love to walk in the mornings." Lie, but he wouldn't know that. I cast around for something else to say.

"Are you here with your family? I don't remember you checking in." With a genial smile that smoothed away the cranky, he said, "I'm Tenn Sawyer. I run the Inn along with my brother."

I fumbled, not sure how to answer. I hadn't planned this out ahead of time. I'd only gotten to town a few hours before and was still getting my bearings. I knew I'd need to establish contact with one of the Sawyers, but I hadn't come up with a good cover story yet.

"I'm not here with my family. And my name is Scarlett." I stuck my hand out for a shake, cursing myself for giving my real name. Subterfuge was not my forte.

"Scarlett." He repeated my name, rolling the sound of it on his tongue, sending another thrill through my rebellious body. "How long have you been a guest at the Inn?"

"Um, not long. Still getting settled in," I babbled, wanting to escape and knowing I needed to stay. "I, uh, did you just get back from a run? Is there a trail you recommend?"

"There are a few," he said with another genial smile. Taking my elbow, he turned me back toward the rear of the Inn. "But it's a little early for a walk. Let me buy you breakfast instead."

It sounded like he was flirting, but the way he scanned the gardens—focused in the direction the black-haired woman had taken—made me think otherwise. Or maybe he was doing double-duty and flirting while he tried to get me out of the gardens. His fingers were steel on my elbow. If I tried to resist and head out for my fictional walk, I had no doubt he'd stop me.

"Uh, okay. Thanks." I could have breakfast with hot, not-so-cranky-guy. But not dressed like this. And not without checking on the package I'd left in my hastily claimed cottage. "I have to change first." I stopped and tried to pull my arm free. Tenn released me, pivoting to block my exit.

"That's fine. I'll walk you to your room," Tenn said, his expression all cool calculation. Not good. Did I mention I suck at subterfuge? He could probably see the lies all over my face.

"I'm staying in one of the cottages. If you wait here, I'll run back and change. Won't take a minute," I promised with a bright smile.

Tenn's deep blue eyes narrowed. Shit. "No," he said slowly, "you're not staying in one of the cottages. It happens that cottage access is limited this summer because of construction. I personally welcomed every guest to reassure them that the noise wouldn't detract from their stay. Like I said, I would have remembered you."

This was exactly the time for a quick comeback.

I was a late arrival.

I was someone's aunt, come to sleep on the couch for a day or two.



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