Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
I’m too busy paying attention to Judge Hottie to listen as the prosecutor shreds my driving ability. When Judge Ashford enquires about Sheriff Armstrong, I realize I haven’t seen the sheriff this morning. The next thing I know, Karma shines down on me as the judge tells me I’m free to go and the charges will be dropped since the sheriff couldn’t attend the hearing.
My heart drops as I turn and rush out of the courtroom like the hounds of hell are on my heels. Too bad, that means I’m leaving Judge Hottie behind.
“What happened?” Skylar is waiting in the lobby as I rush out. She came to court with me today for emotional support but couldn’t come into the courtroom.
“Come on.” I grab her arm and tug. “I’ll explain in the car.”
“What?” my sister sputters behind me but rushes to follow. “Are you on the run?” When we get to her little red car, she presses a button on the remote to unlock the car while glaring at me.
“No.” I roll my eyes. Of course, she’d expect the worst. “They dropped the charges.” I explain the situation while she drives us home. “The new judge is hot. Like really, really hot.” I can’t believe I let that slip out. A few minutes in Judge Hottie’s company and my freaking fried brain has lost all ability to filter my words. Now, I’ll never hear the end of this.
“Oh?” Skylar glances over at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you describe a man as hot before.” That’s true, but Judge Hottie isn’t any man. He’s the man who turned my mind and body to mush with one look. Too bad, I’ll probably never see him again.
Fifteen minutes later, we pull up in front of the large country home we share on the outskirts of Silver Spoon Falls. “What happened?” Jazzy meets us at the front door.
“They dropped the charges.” I shrug as my nose perks up. The smell of hot cheese and pepperoni fills the air around us. “Is that First Class pizza?” My sister knows that’s my favorite meal.
“I thought you’d need some cheering up.” My older sister is the best. She might be upset with me for the ticket, but she’ll still do whatever it takes to cheer me up. “Now, explain this to me.”
“Letty blew the judge and he let her off,” Skylar deadpans, and I feel my face heat at my earlier fantasies.
“Don’t be crude, Skylar Renee,” Jazzy snaps at our younger sister before turning to me. “What really happened?” I’m a little offended she doesn’t even give Skylar’s explanation a second thought.
“The judge dropped the charges when Sheriff Armstrong didn’t show up,” I explain to my older sister as we dish up our pizza.
The next morning, Jazzy insists on driving us both to Curvology. “I’m going to walk down to The Golden Mug,” I tell her before we get to work. “Do you want anything?”
“I’ll take my usual.” I’m not shocked Jazzy wants a vanilla latte. All three of us need our daily caffeine to survive.
The Golden Mug is crowded with early-morning caffeine addicts, like me. What can I say? I depend on my daily dose of black gold to keep me going. As I stand in the longish line, I pull out my phone and read the morning news.
“Good morning, Ms. Matheson.” That voice. Oh, my goodness, it cuts through my soul exactly like it did yesterday in court. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping my un-caffeinated mind is playing tricks on me. I’d prefer not to run into the hottest man on earth before I’ve had my morning caffeine boost. Peeling one eye open, I glance up, way the heck up. Judge Ashford is even taller than I thought yesterday, runs through my mind as I stare into his intense dark blue eyes.
“Oh,” I squeak out. “Hello, Judge Ashford.” Great. I sound like a constipated chipmunk. “I didn’t speed today,” I blurt out and immediately regret my missing mouth filter.
“I’m happy to hear that.” His arrogant smirk heats my blood. I’m not sure if I want to smack his handsome face or throw myself at his steaming hot body. Luckily, the barista asks for my order and saves me from making a choice.
I force myself to turn from the smiling judge and order my usual. “I’ll take a large white chocolate mocha with a double shot, extra hot, and a medium vanilla latte.”
Before she’s able to finish ringing it up, Judge Ashford interjects, “Please add a large black coffee.” What? Does this big jerk expect me to pay for his coffee?
Before I’m able to object, he pulls a black credit card from his wallet and pays for all three coffees. “Oh.” I’m way the heck out of my league here. “You didn’t have to pay for my coffees.”