Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
But he has no authority over me and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Aaron Boudreaux bully his way into my Uber.
My lips part to tell him as much when he cuts me off.
“Or I’m calling your dad,” he says. “I bet he’d be interested in hearing how his son is putting innocent women in danger, especially his daughter.”
My hands curl into fists and my teeth grind together, but I don’t say a word.
I can’t. Because he’s right.
If he calls my dad, this shit day is going to get even worse. Matty is already the black sheep of the family. Something like this could lead to a serious fracture between the people I love, and I can’t handle that right now. My marriage is over, my son sleeps in someone else’s house way too often for my mental health, and I cry myself to sleep on the regular. Add Matty being ostracized from the McGuire clan into the mix, and I don’t know how much longer I could hold the hot mess my life has become together.
So, I swallow my pride and grit out through clenched teeth, “Fine. But I’m not feeding you or talking to you or cleaning up the toys spread out on the floor, so you don’t step on them in the night. I’m going home and going straight to bed. That’s it.”
“Great,” he says with a sniff. He nods toward the rideshare pickup area. “That guy’s calling your name. Must be the car you ordered. I’ll give him something for his trouble and we can go pick up my rental in the parking garage.”
“I’ll pay for it, stay here.” I don’t want to go to the parking garage with Aaron—I don’t want to go anywhere with him—but I also don’t want to ruin my car service review rating. I hurry over to the round man with the red beard calling my name beside the open trunk of his Toyota Prius and hand him twenty dollars, explaining that a friend has unexpectedly offered me a ride.
But Aaron isn’t a friend, and I’m not about to forget that.
Not for a moment.
Twenty minutes later, Aaron’s bag is in the back seat of the giant truck he rented for some inexplicable reason—maybe he plans on joining a monster truck rally while he’s home—and I’m pressed against the passenger’s door, as far from his wretched self as I can get.
As he pulls out into the pouring rain, I consider texting Matty to let him know what’s happened, but when I pull my cell from my purse, I see a text from Ben. It’s a shot of him, Radcliffe, and Chase, all three grinning with whipped cream mustaches. Below it, Ben tells me that Chase had a great day, loves pumpkin pie, and wishes me a Happy Thanksgiving.
Stomach balling into a miserable knot, I tuck the phone away without texting anyone. I don’t have the bandwidth for communicating with anyone else today. I just need my bed and a good night’s sleep.
Good luck with that. Doubt you’ll rest easy with Mr. Sexy camped out on your couch.
Frowning, I remind my inner voice that Aaron is Mr. Obnoxious, not Mr. Sexy, and settle in for a long, silent ride home.
Chapter Two
Aaron Landon Boudreaux
A man who wishes he could go
back in time and tell his
younger self a thing or two about girls.
And flirting. And love.
* * *
The entire drive to Melissa’s house, I do my best to talk myself down from the ledge. I promised her I wouldn’t call her parents or the police…but I really want to call her parents and the police.
Mostly, the police.
Alternatively, I want to track down the man who dared put his hands on her and beat the absolute, ever-loving shit out of him. I want to pummel him until he realizes exactly what it feels like for someone bigger and stronger to take away his free will with violence. Then I want to dump his bruised body at the police station with a note pinned to his chest telling them to check the airport surveillance footage for evidence of what a sad sack of shit he is.
Seeing Melissa snatched off the sidewalk and tossed in a van so fast no one leaving the airport seemed to notice, shook me.
I tell myself it’s because it underlined how vulnerable the women I care about truly are. I tell myself it’s because I can’t help imagining it was my sister, Nora, or one of my best female friends being assaulted by a stranger and whisked away to be sex trafficked or worse.
But it isn’t my sister I’m thinking of right now.
It’s the woman on the other side of the truck, the one I want to pull into my arms and promise I won’t let anyone hurt her again. But Melissa wouldn’t appreciate a hug from the jerk who teased her in high school and that isn’t a promise I can keep. I’m only in Bad Dog for the weekend, to take care of Gram while Nora’s putting out a fire at work or…whatever Nora is doing.