Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Avery Sawyer runs a successful brewery in Sawyers Bend, but the shadow of her father’s unsolved murder looms over everything. Prentice Sawyer made enemies easily, and a year after his death, no one has been brought to justice. The killer has made it clear - he’s not finished with the Sawyer family.
Avery is tired of looking over her shoulder. She’s determined to find the killer and set her family free from their father’s past. But someone wants her to stop digging—badly enough to break into her brewery and steal the evidence she’s collected. It’s a warning Avery can’t ignore, even if it only fuels her desire for answers.
Police Chief West Garfield has been chasing leads for over a year, and they’ve all ended in dead ends. He’s known Avery since she was a kid, long enough to know she won’t back down, even if she’s diving headfirst into danger. Teaming up might be the only way to protect her, but that’s a complication of its own. Avery isn’t a kid anymore, and West realizes he wants to keep her safe from everyone but him.
In a town where secrets run deep and trust is a luxury, Avery and West must navigate old grudges, buried truths, and their own growing feelings. Because someone in Sawyers Bend will do whatever it takes to keep the past buried—and if they’re not careful, it could cost them everything.
Reckless Heart is a standalone romance with a happy ending. It’s eighth in The Hearts of Sawyers Bend series, featuring the Sawyer family of Sawyers Bend
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
AVERY
My small, cluttered office didn’t feel like the place to have a serious meeting, but I couldn’t think of another option. I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it around any of my other employees. Definitely not in the taproom where anyone could walk in. This time of the morning, we were unlikely to have a crowd, but in a tourist town, you never knew. There were a lot of reasons people visited Sawyers Bend, and the active foodie and brewery culture in the area was at the top of the list. I’d had more than one group stop in for a breakfast beer.
I was stressing about the location of the meeting, because I didn’t want to think about the reason we were having it in the first place. I mentally reviewed my arguments, hating that my mouth was bone dry and my heart thudded in my chest. Why should I be nervous? I’d fired more than a few employees since I’d started my brewery. Why was this one any different?
Because it was. Hiring Matthew Holt was arguably the worst mistake I’d ever made, both as a woman and a business owner. Matthew had to go. It had taken me far too long to reach that conclusion, and my gut told me he wasn’t going to go quietly, hence the dry mouth and pounding heartbeat.
The pen I fiddled with slipped out from between my fingers, rolling across the desk to fall on the floor, and I added sweaty palms to the mix.
“Fuck, Avery, get your shit together,” I told myself. “Everybody messes up. Time to clean up and move on.”
Firing Matthew was the right thing to do. My gut knew it. My head knew it. So why was I dreading saying the words? I couldn’t answer that question, and as knuckles rapped on the doorframe, I knew I was out of time.
I looked up to see Matthew’s familiar, charming smile spread from ear to ear, a shock of his golden blond hair falling in his eyes.
“What’s up, boss?” he said, folding his lanky frame into the chair beside my desk. “I was just about to head out to the Orchard to go over plans for the Halloween party. The new fall brew is going to make a splash. It’s fantastic. We make magic together.”
He winked, and my stomach squeezed, reminding me exactly why I was firing Matthew. We hadn’t developed the recipe together, unless you counted his standing behind me, second-guessing every choice I made as collaboration, which Matthew did. As far as I could see, his presence had only served to get in my way until he could take credit once the job was done. And I was pretty damn sure that if the new recipe wasn’t as amazing as we thought it would be, he would quietly slide into the shadows, leaving me to take the blame. Because that was how Matthew worked.
I’d finally reached the point where I could recognize the formula: step one, compliment me enough to get me excited, so I’d work my ass off; step two, swoop in and take the credit. But this was my brewery. My work. And I was done letting him manipulate me.
“Matthew,” I said, threading my fingers together and resting my hands in my lap. “I appreciate everything you’ve done here at Sawyers Bend Brewing, but I think it’s time we part ways.”
I expected shock and anger. Even rage. I was prepared for it. I didn’t expect Matthew to fold his arms over his chest and lean back in the chair, giving me a gentle, condescending smile.
“Ave, baby, I think you were right to break things off between us. At least for now. I haven’t given up completely.” He winked again. How had I ever found this man charming? “But you can’t deny that I’m a hell of a brewmaster, and I’ve made all the difference around here.”
A spurt of rage burned through my chest, firing hotter as I had to concede and recognize he wasn’t wrong. Not entirely. He was a great brewmaster. I’d learned from him, and Sawyers Bend Brewing was better for his tenure here. But that wasn’t the whole story. Being good at his job wasn’t enough.
I tried for a professional smile. I could guess from his expression that what I managed was more of a stretch of my lips over gritted teeth.
“Matthew, you’re an excellent brewmaster. But at the end of the day, I don’t think our visions match. I think you’d be happier somewhere bigger.”
Matthew shook his head and tried again. “Ave, sweetheart—”
His use of my nickname grated.
“My name is Avery, and I’m not your sweetheart. Do I need to point out that this is part of the problem?”
He gave a confused shake of his head, and I didn’t know if he was being obstinate or if he just didn’t get it. I had a feeling it was door number two, which didn’t say a lot about my taste in men. I was pretty sure he had no idea what a dick he was. How could he when he had so much to offer? Brewing expertise and orgasms—what more could a woman want? How about mutual respect, or letting me run my own goddamn business rather than coming in once I’d gotten some traction and trying to take over the whole place?