Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
He shrugged.
“They think they have a good reason.”
They think. Not they do.
“I’m meeting the lady for my chickens later,” I told him. “Do you want to come?”
He stared at me. He did it for so long that I was on the verge of asking him what was wrong, but he smiled.
The smile made my heart stop.
My whole fucking life went from gray and bleak to so fucking sunny that I had to take a breath at the beauty.
When Evander smiled… Jesus Christ, it was poetic.
He was gorgeous normally, but when he brought that smile out…it literally melted my heart.
“Are you asking me, in front of witnesses, if I want to go out on a date with you?”
I opened my mouth to deny it, then closed it.
“Yes,” I said finally. “Come be a crazy chicken man with me.”
He snorted, then leaned back in his seat.
“I don’t get off until four.”
Those words made me so happy.
It wasn’t a no!
Over the next hour of the lunch rush, I ate while Evander spoke. At first, it was about nothing consequential…then he started to tell me about himself.
Whatever barrier that had been erected between Evander and I had been destroyed.
And now he actually spoke to me.
“My doctor said I should start killing people.”
I blinked at him, wondering what he was going on about.
“What?” I asked, setting my half-empty glass carefully on the table.
He nodded. “At least, that’s what I got out of it.”
“What was said, exactly?”
He was funny. Really funny.
He had a sense of humor that made me want to laugh out loud—which I would have done had we not been in a busy diner with nearly half the occupants already watching us with their speculative eyes.
“Well, he said I should reduce the stress in my life.”
“And that turns into killing people in your mind?”
He nodded. “The only stress I have is this shithole town and the people in it. Since I can’t get rid of the town, I’m thinking the people need to go.”
With that, I burst out laughing.
“You’re fucking nuts.” I shoved a piece of my sandwich into my mouth.
I liked this man.
He had a wonderful sense of humor, and it was sad that the people of this town didn’t see what kind of treasure they had in the man.
“Did you really go to the doctor?” I asked, the thought just now occurring to me.
He shrugged.
I sat up, my eyes narrowing.
“Evander.”
He sighed. “I was having chest pains.”
I gasped and nearly toppled the table over.
“Chest pains!” I cried out. “You’re only thirty-four!”
His mouth tipped up at the corner.
“Actually, it was because the chain on the winch snapped and popped me straight in the chest,” he supplied. “I had to get checked out per company policy. That, and Travis was there when I was recovering the vehicle and pretty much forced me to go.”
My eyes were still wide.
“You had a chain…what?” I asked a little too loudly. “Let me see!”
His eyebrows rose.
“You want me to take my shirt off in the middle of a diner where everyone and their brother is currently watching our every move?”
“Fuck everyone else,” I practically snarled. “Let me see.”
Let me tell you something about Evander.
He didn’t have a bone in his body that was modest. I’d learned that the hard way.
Or the nice way, depending on how you looked at it.
I’d been working that fence with him for the last two days, and he’d gotten all sweaty. Sweaty enough, in fact, that he’d deigned it too hot to wear a shirt, and he’d taken it off.
He didn’t see anything wrong with the act…and I didn’t think it was something I needed to tell him that men didn’t do when they were in front of a lady…a lady who they barely knew.
Since today had been the first day that he was back at work, after his two days off, I hadn’t seen him yet today.
Because if I had, I would’ve noticed early on that he wasn’t moving right. And sitting down, I hadn’t quite been able to put the dots together.
Evander had this grace about him, despite his height and bulk.
He looked like a great big cat that was always on the hunt for something—what, I didn’t know. What he didn’t do was favor one side and move stiffly.
Something in which I’d noticed, yes, but since he’d been sitting with me for over an hour now, I’d chalked it up to being stiff from remaining immobile for that long.
He was so private and asking anything about him that he didn’t freely offer up, I’d realized, was very hard for him to answer.
It was as if he had to think everything he said through, and if I asked him a question that he hadn’t thought about having to answer, it was like pulling teeth.
He didn’t like it.
So I’d learned to be quiet and let him steer the conversation where he wanted.