Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Navigating from his bedroom to the small kitchen happened excruciatingly slowly. He dug through one of the five cabinets until he found his Advil. Next, he opened the fridge and grabbed a cold Dr. Pepper. He chugged the fizzy drink down in a couple of gulps, using his hip to rest against the counter, waiting for the medicine to kick in.
He rarely drank that much alcohol. Usually nights like those where reserved for playoff games or bachelor parties of his friends. They were never the result of a need to avoid thinking about a man. Cody looked down his chest and again saw the evidence of last night’s extracurricular activity. What had he done? He closed his eyes tight as bits and pieces of the phone call surfaced through his fuzzy memories.
He prayed he hadn’t embarrassed himself too badly. He remembered being asleep, barely hearing the phone ringing, and being shocked that Mitch was on the other end. Was it a booty call? Probably. Did he care? No… Yes, he needed to care! What was wrong with him? He’d been assigned a new job because of his steadfast dedication. The new promotion was an honor and another stepping-stone in his future to becoming a Texas Ranger. He would earn that Silver Star and six-gun reputation of being someone who could think on their feet and make the right decision when needed. Acting like a hormonal teenage girl over the new hot guy in junior high school was nowhere in that job description he’d just described. Besides, Mitch scared the crap out of him. He was all Cody could think about and that would never do.
Regardless of how he’d acted over the last forty-eight hours, Cody was determined to put Mitch aside and be the man he was destined to become, or at least die trying. And under the current state of his body, that might be sooner rather than later. Reckless, immature actions had no place in his future. His age was already liability enough to the DPS, he didn’t want to come off as rash and irresponsible at such an important time in his life.
Besides, the guys he usually ended up with were cute, smaller-framed, and kind of preppy. They generally had office jobs, and could be talked into relationships. They most definitely didn’t have dimples, tattoos, rocking asses, or hard bodies that could overpower him.
His oldest sister, Sheila, had always been his career counselor. She kept him focused, and he knew the real reason she stayed on him, but her message was still right. She cautioned him that the wrong guys could be a dangerous distraction and cause him to lose focus on his goals. Mitch fell in both those categories. No more games. Cody needed to get that man out of his life and his head back in the game.
Forcing himself, he pushed away from the counter and stood up straight. He ignored the jackhammer pounding in his skull and willed his stomach and body to cooperate. Grabbing his phone off the bed, he padded to the bathroom and called Mason first.
“Hello,” his brother answered.
“I’m running behind, but I’m on my way.” Cody could hear the wind blowing. He had no idea what was going on with the weather, but they had planned to herd cattle today. Move them from one pasture to another.
“We got this, man. We’re just getting saddled up.” Mason sounded laid-back as usual, even with all the work he took responsibility for at the farm.
“Nah, I need the exercise and mental break. Are you heading out to the back pasture?” Cody asked, turning on the hot water in the shower.
“Yeah. Call Jorge before you get here. He’ll get you saddled up. Come around the east side. We’re moving them west,” Mason said.
“All right.” Cody hung up the phone and stepped into the shower spray, hoping it washed away his hangover as easily as it did the dried come from his first attempt at phone sex.
Chapter 20
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mitch asked as FBI security not only stopped him, but escorted him under almost physical force to a back room. Weapons had even been drawn as the group of eight to ten agents moved him through the facility. If he wasn’t so pissed off, Mitch might have sworn he was in a Twilight Zone remake mash-up of the Stepford Wives, except incredibly well-mannered and beautiful women were replaced with Mr. Smith from The Matrix.
“Sir, you’re to remain calm while we verify your credentials,” Mr. Smith number one ordered, which pissed Mitch off even more. To add insult to injury, why the fuck was everyone calling him a sir?
“I’m not a ‘sir’ to you, Smith. I’m Deputy US Marshal Mitch Knox, here at the request of Director Carpenter. You already took my damn weapon, why the fuck am I going in here?” He’d stopped outside the room and swore he’d been to prisons that were nicer. He gave his best self-righteous act and all he got in return for that expression of indignation was a small shove from the back.
Mitch flipped around, fighting mad, prepared to take them all on, only to have the door shut in his face. Two Smith’s stood right inside the door. Both kept their eyes on him, and Mitch kicked the door in one hard burst. The smirk he got in return made him swear when he got out, he would kick that guy’s ass.
“Do you treat all invited guest this way?” Mitch yelled, fighting the need to punch something. Instead, he began pacing. Fucking FBI asshats.
“Only ones that walk through the front doors packing,” the cocky Smith said, arching a brow.
“I told you idiots, Agent Tyler Connors’s son had an accident. I’ve been assigned to work a case with him,” Mitch replied through gritted teeth.
“And as soon as that’s verified, we will take you directly to Director Carpenter’s office where he can explain the importance of credentials when you come in here armed.” Now Mitch really wanted to punch the condescending bastard. He could tell they thought he was absolutely crazy. Not only had they relieved him of his weapons, but also his badge. Stupid motherfuckers. And all Mitch could do was stand directly in front of them, take on their stance, and scowl just like them. It gave him pleasure to see he was taller and had more bulk than the condescending one.