Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Long black hair that was falling in waves around a beautiful face. Perfect, kissable lips.
“Is that okay, Mr. Roberts?” Avery asked.
My eyes finally met hers. Eyes that I’d been avoiding since I knew they were so fucking pretty.
This was the real reference to anime, in my opinion.
Avery’s eyes were so fucking blue—an intense blue that just rocked you when you looked into them—that they reminded me of those girls on anime. Where their single most defining features were their eyes.
Eyes that were slightly covered up by large, black-framed glasses that looked as if they took up her entire face.
And then there was the dusting of freckles right underneath those big, beautiful blue eyes.
“Derek?” she pushed. “Are you okay?”
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, outside is fine,” I finally settled on, trying to get my shit straight.
I couldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts about a woman this young.
I certainly couldn’t be having these thoughts about a woman that was still in high school. I know there weren’t that many years between us, but just the idea that she was only a senior made me feel old.
“Where do you want me?” I asked curiously.
“Do you have a police cruiser?” She finally looked up.
My breath caught once again as I caught sight of her eyes.
“I do,” I said, surprised that my voice had come out sounding so even.
“Then that’s what we’re going to take your photo in,” she said, going back to her camera. “I just have to switch out the lens.”
I nodded but didn’t reply, too busy berating my body for doing things that it shouldn’t be doing for a nineteen-year-old.
“How’s your dad?” she asked conversationally.
And that was a very good way to get my mind out of the gutter and back to the matter at hand.
“My dad’s good,” I said. “Going on a cruise in a few months. So I’d say he’s stressed seeing as he’s trying to figure out how to delegate tasks while he’s gone. But what he does is too much for one person to do, so he’s struggling with it.”
Avery snorted. “Your dad works too much. And he should already be delegating a lot of those things without having to take a vacation.”
My sentiments exactly.
“I agree.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Avery got her lens switched out and gestured for the door.
I followed her, then had to take over because she stopped and looked confused.
“This way,” I said, leading her out the back door.
I nodded at the two men that were at the back door smoking.
Avery, on the other hand, started to cough.
“Oh, God.” She coughed again, waving her hand in front of her face. “That’s awful.”
Both officers froze as they saw her.
“Officer Morre.” She tilted her head, looking at the officer on the left. “I didn’t realize you started smoking again. Didn’t your wife say you quit?”
Officer Morre winced. “I only do it upon occasion.”
Avery raised a brow at Morre. “Is that right?”
Morre immediately dumped his cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out with his boot.
Officer Tuscon, the man on Avery’s right, snickered.
“And you,” she said. “Tuscon, is it?”
Tuscon nodded, his smile slipping away.
“Don’t you have a pregnant wife at home?”
Tuscon nodded. “Four months.”
“Hmm,” Avery said. “Did you hear about that little baby, she was three years old, that got lung cancer? From secondhand smoke?”
Tuscon froze.
“It’s not just you anymore, my man.” Avery patted him on the shoulder. “Gotta think about that.”
Avery followed me down the steps and to the front of my cruiser, and I couldn’t help it. I had to ask.
***
Avery
Holy. Shit.
I was standing next to Derek Roberts, and I was about to take his photo.
How was this my life?
“Did you have someone close to you die of lung cancer or something?” Derek asked, looking at me curiously.
I shook my head.
“No,” I admitted. “I just like to spread my ‘it’s not good to smoke’ vibes everywhere. Plus, Morre’s wife, Natalie, has a family history of lung cancer. He should be doing better than he is with that hanging over his head.”
Derek grunted.
“Did you really know a three-year-old that got lung cancer?” he pushed.
I snorted. “No. I didn’t know them. I only read about it on the internet.”
He grunted again, making me think he didn’t like that I’d told the men that smoking was bad.
Smoking was bad.
It wasn’t my fault if they didn’t like to hear the dangers associated with it.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, and the vibe I was getting from him was a whole lot more formal now.
“I want you to get in your cruiser and act natural.” I paused. “With your shirt off.”
He lifted a brow at me, making my heart race.
“Do you honestly think it’s ‘natural’ for me to be in my cruiser shirtless?” he wondered.
I looked at him.
“I’m just doing what I was told to do,” I said. “If you don’t want to take off your shirt, fine. Not my business. I was just told to make you take your shirt off and make it look ‘hot’ but ‘tasteful.’ Those are direct quotes from the man in charge. So completely up to you, you’ll still look good with all of your clothes on, but Dax, who was before you? He was able to do it shirtless in the bed. Just sayin’.”