Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 73824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
It was a distraction, yes, but I enjoyed it.
“You tried to call me?” I asked, patting my pockets for my phone.
Then I groaned, remembering exactly where my phone was. As well as my pager.
“Mother fucker,” I growled. “Can you watch them while…”
James’ pager went off and I growled in frustration. “Never mind. Looks like you can’t. And it’s a good thing I was with you.”
***
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
“What is that?” Paxton asked, looking around the room for the foreign sound.
I, on the other hand, was busy searching through the various pockets in the windbreaker I’d taken from cantankerous man who couldn’t control his kids.
He did make some cute kids, too. His wife was a lucky woman.
Because, fuck if Bennett wasn’t hotter than hell.
He’d probably be a beast in the bedroom, too.
But then he’d open his mouth and it’d lost all appeal when his caveman, me man you woman, act started to spew out.
“Check inside,” Melissa said, gesturing to my coat.
I did, and finally found the pocket that he’d hidden his things in.
Cell phone, a set of keys and a pager.
Pager?
I wasn’t aware they even made those anymore.
Holy shit.
I had all of his things, and if the way his phone was going crazy right now, I needed to get it back to him, pronto.
Or would have if the phone hadn’t been locked.
Pressing the home button, I smiled at the same little girl he’d had with him earlier stood on the hood of a truck with her arms raised.
Bennett stood in front of it, holding his hands up in order to catch her, and he had a huge smile on his face.
Then the picture disappeared when his phone started to ring once again.
James, the display read.
No picture or anything, only the name.
Knowing that the only way I would get this phone back to him was to answer it, I did just that.
“Hello?” I answered cheerily.
“You have my phone,” that familiar growl rolled through me like warm honey.
“Uh, yeah. I sure do. We’re still eating if you want to come back and get them,” I supplied helpfully, picking up a fry and tossing it into my mouth.
He growled again, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my face at his annoyance with me.
With anyone else, I would’ve felt bad.
But with the way he was being an ass, like the other day, I couldn’t find it in me to give a shit.
“I got a SWAT call. You bring it to me when you’re done,” he insisted.
“I don’t know where you live. And I’m tipsy. I’d planned on calling a cab,” I lied.
There went that growl again, making my hoo-ha do funny things.
“Well, have the cab drop you off at the station, and I’ll have someone take you home,” he tried.
I smiled. “I only have like five dollars. It’s just enough to get me home three blocks from here.”
He hissed, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep the laughter from boiling out.
“Fine,” he said calmly. “I’ll just have to come get it from you.”
I squeaked. “No, you can’t do that!”
“Why not?” He asked, something rustling around in the background. Then a door slammed, followed quickly by the sound of someone moving fast through a hallway or something.
“Because I don’t want you to know where I live!” I yelled a little shrilly.
Melissa and Paxton started to laugh at my clearly uncomfortable state.
There were only two people, aside from family, who knew where I lived, and I was sitting with them right this second.
I didn’t want some guy that clearly didn’t like me knowing where I lived!
“You do know, right, that I’m a cop? Whether you tell me where you live or not, I can come get it. And what about that cab driver that’s taking you home? He’ll know where you live,” he said slowly.
Almost as if he was talking to someone slow who couldn’t quite comprehend the words that were coming out of his mouth.
“So? I’ll bring it to you,” I snapped.
“Too late. I’m coming to you. Later,” he said laughingly, then hung up without waiting for my reply.
“You know,” Paxton said a few minutes of silence later. “You had that coming. You shouldn’t have goaded him.”
“I couldn’t help it!” I seethed. “The man infuriates me. You saw what he did when I stitched him up. And what he said. I’m not some little girl that needs his directions. I’m a grown woman who has opinions and makes her own decisions.”
Paxton nodded. “You’re a maverick, and other mavericks recognize likeness. Just let what he says roll off your shoulders and let it go.”
I sneered at him. “Whatever.”
Forty five minutes later, sober as the day I was born, I got into my car and drove to my house, wondering if what Bennett had said about him coming over was true.
Surprisingly, it didn’t bother me that he’d know where I lived. In fact, it actually felt just fine.
When my first boyfriend had found out where I lived, and showed up randomly one day, I’d moved forty eight hours later. Once I was moved, I then broke up with him.
See, I had boundaries.
Huge, major, lined in barbed wire, boundaries.
My boundaries were warranted, too.
Big time.
When I was sixteen, I was attacked in my own home by my boyfriend at the time. Well, ex if you wanted to be technical.
Earlier that night I’d broken up with him because he wouldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer.
He’d wanted sex, and I’d wanted to keep my virginity intact.
Not because I was a prude or anything, but because I didn’t want to end up like so many friends from my high school, sixteen and pregnant.
So I’d told him no when he tried to make a move on me, and then had further broken up with him when he wouldn’t accept that no.
Turns out, as I left that night, he’d followed me home and waited for my parents to go to bed when he broke into our home.
I’d woken up to Reggie’s hands down my panties, and so freakin’ scared that I couldn’t see straight.