Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I passed by her, accidentally brushing my right arm against her breasts as I moved.
I swallowed, trying to get into her kitchen without making a complete fool of myself.
“Where’d you find it?” Annie asked as she moved into the kitchen behind me.
“Your front porch,” I answered, letting the trash fall into the can before I turned around and pinned her to the spot with my gaze. “I want to borrow your car.”
She lifted her brows at me.
“Why?” She asked in confusion. “Is there something wrong with your bike?”
I shook my head, surveying her kitchen.
She had a huge pile of mail along the back of the counter next to the back sliding door.
The other surfaces in the kitchen were spick and span.
“Nothing wrong with my bike,” I answered. “I just need to borrow yours for a couple hours.”
She crossed her arms and gave me the glare.
You know the one.
Every woman had it perfected before they even hit the age of eighteen.
The one that was supposed to make a man tremble in his boots.
With Jennifer, that move didn’t work at all.
With Annie, though, it only made my primal instincts flare to life.
The urge to fuck the attitude right out of her was instinctive and nearly overwhelming.
“I want to follow Jennifer, but she knows my truck and bike. You drive that little hatchback, and about fifteen hundred people in the vicinity have that car,” I finally answered.
She snorted.
“Was that so hard?” She asked, handing me the keys to her car. “But it’s empty…like running on fumes empty, and I need to leave in about thirty minutes to meet someone.”
“Who are you meeting?” I asked.
She walked to a table where a pile of what looked to be garage sale items sat.
A pillow. A black leather bag. A vase. And a huge rock.
“I’m selling some of my old stuff. I need to have a garage sale, but I’m a lazy person, so I’m not gonna do that. I’ll just sell off a little but at a time,” she answered, pointing to the stuff.
“And you’re going to go meet where?” I asked.
“The mall parking lot,” she answered just as quickly, walking into the back bedroom.
“That’s not very safe,” I said, walking to the living room and looking at the pictures on her walls and mantle as she dressed.
In the first picture she was sitting with her sister, a woman I’d seen from afar since she’d moved in beside me.
The other two were, I guessed, her parents.
They were older versions of the girls, and they were smiling. The man with his arm around the sister. The woman with her arm around Annie.
A picture perfect family.
“I don’t think it’s unsafe. I’m meeting them all around eight this morning in the mall parking lot,” she said from the other room.
The mall wasn’t actually a ‘mall.’
It was a store on the Uncertain/Jefferson border that was sort of a mini dollar store.
It had a little bit of everything, which was why the owners called it the mall even though it wasn’t technically labeled as one.
It was also out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, Texas…and not somewhere I’d want Annie meeting someone by herself.
“The mall is not a good place for you to be meeting. And if you’re going to do it today, then I’m coming with you,” I said, booking no room for an argument.
She didn’t answer, which gave me more time to study her photos.
The other ones on the wall were of Annie and her friends, women I’d seen coming here to her house to visit quite a few times since she’d moved in as well.
The last photo my gaze caught on, however, was the one of Annie in a white dress that came all the way down to her ankles.
She was dressed all in white…her wedding dress…with her dad standing at her side looking down at her adoringly.
She was younger, of course, but she was still the same woman I saw every morning as I walked to my bike on the way to work.
The same woman who I’d dreamt about every night since she’d moved in next to me.
“I’m ready,” Annie said from behind me.
I turned, giving one last longing look at the picture before turning to her.
“Cool, let me have your keys,” I instructed.
She raised her head, but nonetheless dropped the keys into my palm.
“Be nice to my baby. She’s on her last legs,” Annie instructed.
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”
In truth, I didn’t think I’d have a problem being gentle with her.
We were on our way, twenty minutes later, with Annie in the passenger seat next to me.
“This has got to be the smallest car I’ve ever had the experience of sitting in,” I grumbled, shifting the gears once again.
Annie laughed.
“Well, you’re six foot three; what’d you expect?” She teased.
I turned onto the road that would take us to the mall and looked over at her.