100 Lifetimes of Us

100 LIFETIMES OF US A HOT BODYGUARD ROMANCE MAGGIE GATES Copyright © 2023 Maggie C. Gates. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, information storage, and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in book reviews. This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real places or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or is used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and/or establishments referenced in this work of fiction. The publication/use of these trademarks is not associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is intended for mature audiences. ISBN: 9798392265213 Editing and Cover Design by Jordan Loft. The digital version of 100 Lifetimes of Us is available exclusively on Amazon and the Kindle Unlimited program. If you acquired this book through unauthorized means, please click here to purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by imprisonment and/or a monetary fine. IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT WITH GRATITUDE Author Mikayla Christy Creator of Lilly Matthews | Cross Check My Heart Author Mandy Muse Creator of Darcy, Evan, and Devlin Quinn-Toa | Reasons to Breathe Author Nicole Fanning Creator of Jaxon and Natalie Pace, Charlie, Sally, Josiah, and The Jefferson Hotel | Heart of the Inferno Series To Romancelandia. The readers. The writers. The ones who believe in true love. To the brave ones. Wait… Is this fucking play about us? CONTENTS 1. Annie 2. Miles 3. Miles 4. Annie 5. Miles 6. Annie 7. Miles 8. Annie 9. Miles 10. Annie 11. Miles 12. Annie 13. Miles 14. Annie 15. Miles 16. Annie 17. Miles 18. Annie 19. Annie 20. Miles 21. Annie 22. Annie 23. Miles 24. Unknown 25. Miles 26. Annie 27. Miles 28. Unknown 29. Annie 30. Miles 31. Annie 32. Miles 33. Annie 34. Miles 35. Annie 36. Annie 37. Miles 38. Annie 39. Miles 40. Annie Epilogue: Miles Not Ready to Say Goodbye to Miles and Annie? We’re Heading Back to Falls Creek! Author’s Note To The Reader Acknowledgments Also by Maggie Gates About the Author ANNIE CHERRY PIE AND CYANIDE “Your daughter is mediocre at best.” That’s what my fourth-grade teacher told my parents during a mid-year conference. “Her grades are average, and her participation leaves much to be desired. Annie has few friends, seems uninterested in socializing. She prefers to spend recess alone, daydreaming on the far end of the playground.” Mrs. Tindall’s words still stung after all these years. She’d told no lies, though. I had been mediocre. Still was. Probably always would be. A middle of the road, snooze-a-thon of a person. I was mid-sized. Not skinny, but not plus sized. Just a whole heaping of boxy middle-ness that made shopping for clothes absolutely dreadful. My hair was the color of dust. Not dark brown like rich soil. Not warm like the sun or light like pearls. It was neither straight nor curly. When I took a curling iron to it, the waves fell out in seconds. But, when I brushed it down, it poofed like cotton candy, turning into a dusty, lackluster frizz. My eyes reflected the same shade of brown as sixty percent of the world’s population. I even had the most common last name in the United States. It turned out my fourth-grade teacher was right. I, Annie Smith, was average in every conceivable way. But Whitney West isn’t. She’s sexy. Mysterious. Confident and dazzling. Dazzling. That’s a good word. I fortified myself with a sip of coffee, then let my fingers fly over the keys. Mrs. Winslow sashayed through the gala and dazzled her guests like the diamond pendant that hung from her neck. Not a trace of grief could be found on her surgically perfected face, which was odd considering it had only been four weeks since her husband’s murder. Of course, she had no reason to grieve. He wasn’t the first of her lovers to leave the mortal realm under mysterious circumstances. Briar Winslow already had a new man on her arm—Cyrus Halstead, a Texas oil baron. By my guess, she’d be Mrs. Briar Halstead by the end of the month, and he’d be one step closer to an early grave. After he added her to his life insurance policy, of course. That was the infamous Briar Winslow’s mode of operation. Fall in lust, lure them, and leave them. Or, more accurately, have them leave this earth and add their fortunes to her rapidly growing bank account. Still, I’d found no evidence linking her to the murders. Either she had mastered her morbid hobby, or she was innocent. The latter seemed unlikely, given the flicker of contempt her curled lips displayed at her new beau’s antics across the room. To the untrained eye, she was the perfect hostess. Not a hair out of place. My bureau-trained senses detected a shrewd, calculating, cold-blooded killer. And then Briar’s cool blue eyes turned to me, and she smiled. “There’s my diligent author,” a familiar voice chirped from the other side of the pie shop. The distinct click of Ophelia’s stilettos on the dining room’s cobblestone floors announced her arrival at my table, but I didn’t look up. My focus was on the first draft on my screen as I delved deeper into the world of Briar and the FBI agent pursuing her. “Tell me when you’re done,” Ophelia said, and settled regally into the booth opposite me. Her glossy mahogany blowout swayed across her shoulders as she retrieved her tablet from the precious designer bag she hauled around. Her things were neatly placed in clean, parallel lines across her half of the booth’s hardwood tabletop. Everything was streamlined and