Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 22647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
She looked at me as if I was stupid. “What exactly is a twenty two pistol going to do? That’d just irritate her and make her run from me. I wanted to finish the job, not exacerbate it.”
I grinned at that comment.
She was right.
Chapter 2
Today I don’t feel like doing anything. Except you. I’d do you.
-E-card
Blaine
One week later
I was in love with him.
There were no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. The man had a hold on my heart from the moment we’d met, and hasn’t left my thoughts since.
After taking me to the funeral, he took me home and then refused to leave because he was worried I had sustained a concussion in the wreck.
He’d cleaned my wound fully when we got to the funeral, deemed it a ‘scratch,’ and sat in the back of the chapel.
I’d been an emotional wreck, and at some point, he’d slipped in next to me in the empty spot to my right when I wasn’t looking. From there he’d held my hand, and then moved to holding me as I cried in his arms.
When we’d arrived at my apartment, he’d gone about making me dinner, and then we’d rented a movie on cable, while I tried my best not to dwell on the disaster of the day.
While there, we’d talked about our age gap. Our parents. My deceased Jeep. Anything and everything. He was very open and he told me anything I wanted to know.
He was twenty-three to my twenty. We spoke about what I did while I was going to college. What my goals were once I was done with school.
He’d laughed when I told him I wanted to be a mystery shopper and open my own business, but once he’d ascertained my seriousness, he’d quickly changed his opinion. I was damn well going to accomplish my dream.
He’d even shared with me his biggest embarrassment.
He couldn’t dance. Not even a little bit. Which he’d demonstrated when I’d jokingly started to dance with him when the song U Got It Bad came on while we were cooking dinner.
I still had the bruises on my feet to prove it.
He’d given it a valiant try, but in the end I’d been laughing too hard to continue.
Finally, we’d fallen asleep together on the couch, about halfway through the movie, and he’d woken me up every hour on the dot without the aid of an alarm clock.
Now I was looking out my window, practically jumping up and down on my toes, as I watched him pull over and flip the kickstand down on his shiny, black motorcycle. I’d never been on one before, but the moment he’d said that he had a bike, I knew I wanted to ride on it with him.
I smiled wide when I saw him tap the pink helmet that was strapped to the back of the bike, knowing instinctively that he’d purchased that especially for me.
I stared out the little peephole and waited for him to walk up the steps to my apartment.
Then I watched as he looked at the hole in the door for what seemed like ages before he knocked. Did he know I was sitting there watching him?
He looked so cute in his black jeans, black boots, royal blue t-shirt, and backwards baseball cap. Even with his shirt tucked in and his hair perfectly cut, he looked badass.
I had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t telling me all of what he did other than ‘security’. My best guess was that he was in the military. His security was probably more like National Security. He’d said that he didn’t’ want to think about his job when I’d asked him what he did for a living, and I’d given him that option in hopes that he’d open up about it.
However, I knew a trained person when I saw one.
I saw the way he watched a room when we entered it. How he always made sure to have his back to a wall.
His gait was different too. His steps light but purposeful.
The words he spoke sounded sure, with no hesitancy. He never seemed nervous. The man was in complete control of everything he did.
Unhinging the chain, and then twisting the deadbolt, I opened the door wide.
“Hey!” I smiled nervously.
His lip tipped up into a half smile, drawing my attention from his eyes to his mouth.
And what a wonderful mouth he had.
“Blaine,” he said with a rumble.
He didn’t ask if he could come in, instead just walking right on in and taking in my place like he did the first time.
It wasn’t too shabby for a twenty year old on a fixed income. I had a one bedroom apartment in a not to bad part of town. As in, my car only got broken into once a month instead of every night.
That was why I was careful not to leave things outside that were important. If they just saw a clean car with nothing in it, they wouldn’t waste their time.
“I forgot to tell you how much I liked your couch,” he rumbled, looking at my second-third hand couch with a half-smile.
I’d gotten it from my grandmother once she’d moved into a retirement home, who’d gotten it from her best friend when she’d moved in with her children. It was a massive floral explosion of colors. It’d had a cover on it when I’d gotten it, but I’d taken it off because it smelled like old people, despite its numerous washes, and I hadn’t had the money to replace it yet.
“Thanks,” I said, taking in the rest of the room from a visitor’s point of view.
It really wasn’t much, but if nothing else, I had comfort and coziness.
There was a bright zebra printed bean bag in the corner that I’d made into my reading nook. A large brown recliner that was in front of the TV, with a bright green blanket covering the fact that it was just as ugly as the couch.
Then there was the tiny, little kitchen decorated in John Deere memorabilia.
Cheesy, yes, but I liked what I liked.