Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Tonight, it would be just Frank, beer he’d get someplace that didn’t violate his customer rights, and Predator. The old one, not the shitty new ones.
He’d watched the movie so many times he could recite the dialogue by heart, and it never failed to provide comfort at the end of a difficult day.
Frank paid for the rest of his shopping without a word and grabbed the bags, his lips set in a thin line. This was exactly why he liked that his house sat in the middle of a massive junkyard, far away from people he didn’t want to deal with.
It was his sanctuary, a place he’d made his own, and where his rules were law.
The standoff attracted the attention of customers waiting in lines for the other registers, so he walked off keeping his gaze on the exit, determined not to make any unnecessary eye contact. He wanted to be back home, in comfortable sweats, and without anyone spoiling his mood with their bullshit.
But as he headed for his truck—beat-up and in a dark red shade Dex laughed off as old—his eyes ended up straying to a pair of long legs clad in bootcut jeans. Frank’s breath caught when he noticed the way denim hugged the man’s buttocks before making way for a fitted long-sleeve that showcased a toned back.
Had it really been so long that seeing a random dude in a parking lot was enough to make his mouth water? The thought of dating apps made Frank break out in hives, and even hookups often proved too much hassle to arrange when he had so much work every day. Especially that a man couldn’t get his cock sucked nowadays without downloading something from the app store. He spent his free time either tinkering in his workshop or preparing for the next strongman competition, and there was no time left for taking good selfies.
But when the stranger bent over, putting his groceries into the trunk of his car, Frank couldn’t help but stare. It was his birthday after all. Could this possibly be some sign from the heavens that he should live a little?
A quick glance in the side mirror of his truck confirmed that his long black braid looked neat. Maybe he was no model, but Frank knew he was a catch for any guy who liked his men very masculine and wasn’t afraid of the extra muscle he carried. But life was about being realistic, not living in la la land, and Frank couldn't date anyone long-term. Because how would he explain his frequent absences, the occasional bloodstains on his clothing, or the fact that he kept gold bars in walls and under the floor? The right guy for Frank would need to be okay with the illegal shit happening at the junkyard, and if Frank had learned something in the past forty years, it was that the vast majority of men couldn’t be trusted. Those in his line of work—even less so.
But while he did not want to form commitments based on lies, a one-night stand wouldn’t care if he lied about his profession, so he double-checked whether his T-shirt was clean and stood a bit straighter as excitement simmered beneath his skin.
But just as he was about to leave his groceries by the vehicle and strike up a conversation with the handsome man, a young woman in a flowy dress ran up to him and slid her hand down his back pocket.
So that settled it then.
Frank tried not to take the non-rejection personally, but the flicker of hope that had burned in his chest for the briefest moment left behind scalding ash, so he threw the produce into the truck bed a bit too roughly. He cursed when one of the yogurts squirted out through the plastic top and splashed a pack of bananas.
What else would go wrong today?
He gave the hottie one more glance in the rearview mirror, to make sure he remembered that face when he was alone come evening. This was for the better. He didn’t have the whole day off to entertain a man, just because said man had pretty eyes and a tight ass. His life was about responsibilities, and that was why he’d given up on dating a few years ago. To be fair, it did coincide with him needing more cash to help his sister with medical bills, but liquor was punishingly expensive in bars, and any time spent chasing men was time not spent earning money.
It was what it was.
His throat tightened when he thought of all his efforts not paying off, but he gave it his all, and he counted each additional day his sister got on earth as a win.
They might have been estranged for most of their lives, but he still missed her bright laugh on a day like this one.