Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” I point at the limo parked on the gravel lot beside the building. “I was planning on stealing that and driving myself to Canada.”
“Wouldn’t work. Escaping there, I mean. I have a brother who lives there.”
“I think you might be underestimating my skill level just a little. As good as I am at finding people, I’m even better at disappearing.” The way his eyes flash as the lip twitch turns into a full smile hits me hard in all the places I don’t want to get hit hard in.
I want to not inhale because of the smell of the trash, not have my breath stolen by a handsome stranger’s lovely smile.
We might be married, but that’s what he is. A stranger. There’s no way I’m letting my guard down. And the whole married thing? I mailed the papers yesterday while everyone was setting up for the wedding today. I fully expect that in a few weeks, I’ll get a response saying the divorce is finalized.
“I’m not underestimating you at all. I think you’d be a great addition to the family, just like Granny thinks so. I’m happy that you’re in the midst of deciding if you want to join us. Well, that you’re at least considering it.”
I don’t know why hearing the honesty in his voice hits me harder than his whole handsome, hot guy, built-as-fuck persona. I guess, aside from the few friends I have, it’s been a long time since anyone was nice to me. It’s been even longer since anyone wanted to claim me as one of their own. I don’t even want to get into the details about how drunk me the night I impulsively married a stranger might have needed something that sober me wasn’t offering, and sober me exists ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine percent of the time.
“Do you want company?”
“What?” I gape at him, blinking furiously against the burn starting up behind my eyes. It really says something about how pathetically lonely I am when I want to cry over a bunch of strangers offering to make me a part of their family because they’re totally crazy and they feel an affinity for my brand of crazy. Also, hacking. “Isn’t it a little late for that?”
“It is, and I should have asked sooner, but I didn’t want to not ask.”
I feel strangely vulnerable with him looking at me like that. It’s like he’s half trying to figure me out while the other half is because he’s actually worried I might say I want to be alone.
“Actually, I’d rather just stand out here smelling garbage and thinking my own thoughts. I have a big decision to make soon, so I was contemplating life out here, right next to the trash cans. I don’t know what that says about me in general. Maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe it’s a metaphor.”
“Maybe they’re your spirit animal.”
I gape at him. “Did you just say that trash is my spirit animal?”
He throws his hands up in front of him quickly, but he can’t hide his grin. “That was a joke. I swear. Sorry. Okay, I’ll just leave you to it.” He turns around and walks back to the compound, then spins around again. “Are you sure you’re okay out here?” I nod, and when he turns around, I don’t check out his ass because his shoulders are fine as farge material to land my eyes on as it is. He pushes the compound gate, but it doesn’t open, so he pushes it again, and the chain link rattles. Then, he pulls. Hard. It rattles some more, but it still doesn’t budge.
“Oh shit,” he says flatly without turning around. “I think we’ve locked ourselves out.”
As if that’s a cue, a strange hissing noise comes from the garbage dumpsters, startling us. I whip around, doing my signature—I’ll kick your ass—crouch again. I don’t know how he moves so fast or so silently, but all of a sudden, Orion is there, diving in front of me. He shoves me behind him and makes himself big, a big target to hit in order to save me.
There’s no way I’m going down like this, so I grab him around the waist and try and fling us both to the ground. However, it basically ends up with me just wrapping my arms around his waist and neither of us flinging anywhere because he’s so bloody solid and warm, and he smells amazing and—
The hissing comes again, and we both freeze. We stop breathing, which is a mercy for my ovaries. Orion certainly doesn’t smell like garbage, and that’s more than a bit of a turn-on. Liquid heat floods my limbs before I remember that I’m in danger.
“Oh shit!” Orion yells.
I peep around the side of his massive chest to see what the oh shit moment is. No, there aren’t any feral cats or hidden bad guys in the dumpster making strange hissing calls. And no, it’s not a bear in the middle of the city or garbage reanimating and coming back to life to attack as a giant garbage alien monster.