Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“Do you think so? It’s not too much?”
He glanced up the street. “You’re the first person to put their decorations up.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t care about waiting. My mom always put hers up on Thanksgiving. She wanted the house to sparkle during a time of gratefulness. I like it.” She clapped her hands and turned toward him. “Could I interest you in a little hot chocolate?”
“I would love some, but I’ve got a couple of errands to run.”
“You work way too hard.”
“I know, but there’s no rest for me.” He winked at her, playing along. She had no idea there was a dead body in the trunk of his car. “Can I come over after?” Nate didn’t know why he even asked that. This was only going to torture him more. Being close to Lemon always did. He’d never met a woman who affected him this deeply.
“Sure. I’d like that. You can help me put up the tree.” She put a hand on his arm and went back to her part of the house.
They lived together in the tiny cul-de-sac at the bottom of a long road. Most of the people in residence were families, and it was all a little too clean-cut for him. He had dirt on most of the people. This was what made him good at what he did. He was thorough.
He watched her as she bent down, picking up her boxes, and then entered her house and closed the door.
After climbing behind the wheel, he pulled out of his drive and took off, heading toward a secure location.
He was only ten minutes into his journey when he got the call from Rocco himself.
“She’s safe,” he said.
“You took out another hit.”
“I’ve got it all covered.”
He waited for the two minutes for Rocco to curse. It was rare for the boss man himself to lose it. Nate had worked for him for nearly twenty years now, and he was the best at what he did. Where men in his profession got more reclusive, he made sure he could mingle with the best of them. There was no room for errors in his world. He liked being able to blend into this world.
“How is she?” Rocco asked.
“She had no idea she was being watched, sir. She’s putting up Christmas decorations.”
Rocco chuckled. “Her mother used to do that. She hated taking them down, but she loved putting them up. Is she … how is she?”
“She is … fine. She seems happy.” He rarely saw Lemon without a smile on her face. Unless she talked about her mother, she was always a happy person. She was quite the sparkly person by nature. He liked that about her.
In his line of work, the darkness always came a little too close for comfort. If he allowed himself to dwell and to fall down that dark path, there was no coming back for him. He’d be lost.
“Good. That is good. Does she ever mention me?” Rocco asked.
“No, sir.”
There was silence.
“Everything will be waiting for you.” Rocco hung up.
It had taken twenty years of loyal service for Rocco to be real with him. Taking care of Lemon was a highly classified mission.
He gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
“She is to be protected and happy at all times. If she is hurting for money, let me know. I will fund whatever she needs. I do not want her in any kind of pain, or wanting anything else. Am I understood?”
Nate was used to more damaging and bloody tasks, but making a woman happy, he was good at that as well.
Only, Lemon was the boss’s daughter. She was completely off-limits.
He was never one to fall into temptation, but each day he spent with her, it was getting harder for him to resist her.
****
“Ouch!”
Lemon winced as she saw the droplet of blood ooze out of her finger. Needles were a pain, but trying not to stab herself with them appeared to be a challenge.
Wrinkling her nose, she sucked on her finger, tasting the metallic taste until it all but disappeared.
The current garment she was making was proving to suck, at least to her. Her passion for dressmaking had come from her mother, who loved being in front of a sewing machine.
The very one she worked on now once belonged to her mother.
Putting the dress to one side, she touched the machine, thinking about her mother, her sweet smile. The promise of something amazing once she was done.
Lemon hadn’t purchased an item of clothing in years. After learning the skills straight from her mother, her love of creating had never died. She loved being able to see some beautiful fabric and to make herself something, whatever she liked.
Even the pants she wore now, made of lycra fabric with love hearts all over. They were on the big side, but she tended to make things a size or two too big. It was a flaw.