Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
She knew that. She sent him a cocky grin. “No problem. I’ll charm the socks off Mr. Tregre.” She was certain she had the perfect picture of him. Sixty-five or seventy. Gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Slightly pudgy, but not by much, still walked every morning, maybe with a cane just because it suited his gentlemanly looks.
“I have no doubt that you will.”
She sauntered out, past the workmen in the lumberyard and made it to her truck, just outside the double gates. She was grateful she’d worn her newest old-favorite jeans, which meant threadbare in places but no holes. Her tee was tighter than she would have liked, dip-dyed from a royal blue all the way to a faded blue that matched her jeans. She had on boots – leather, girly, with rings of roped leather and gold around the ankle. She’d do. She was supposed to look like a carpenter, not a model.
She scented roses and turned her head to see Molly waving at her. Beckoning. A part of her wanted that – a friend. She genuinely liked Molly. The woman was only a year or two older than she was and every bit as alone. Sonia didn’t know her story because she was afraid of getting close to anyone. Molly tempted her, though.
“You have time for a cup of coffee?” Molly called from across the parking lot.
With one hand on the door and the other clutching the Post-it note, Sonia had all the excuses in the world, but she hesitated. She was tired of not having a friend – at least one person to talk to.
“Come on. One coffee isn’t going to kill you,” Molly urged.
It might not kill her, but it could get Molly killed. Perhaps both of them. Her hand tightened on the door handle, but she couldn’t make herself pull the door open. “I guess. But it has to be fast. I have to get to work.”
Molly’s smile got wider, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Finally. You actually have more than two minutes. The only time you slow down is when you’re driving away and I see you singing in your truck.”
“I’m not exactly slowing down. I’ve nearly gotten three speeding tickets,” Sonia confessed. “I had to flirt like crazy with Bastien Foret.”
“He’s hot but knows it,” Molly said, falling into step with her as they started down the street toward the local coffee shop. “I never speed, but once I had a flat tire. I was changing it, and he came along and insisted he would do it. He did more talking about himself than anyone I’ve ever met. I know about his camp out in the bayou, and his prowess at fishing and hunting. I know he was married once, but his wife left him and no one knows where she went off to. I know he does extra drive-bys around my street to keep the good citizens safe, especially single women who are at risk…”
“He didn’t say that to you, did he?” Sonia asked, trying not to laugh. “Because he said the exact same thing to me.”
“He apparently says it to all the single women he thinks may fall for him. He talks to Pete – you know, the man who delivers the gas to everyone around here – and Pete told me to be careful,” Molly said. “Pete’s a nice guy. His niece was taken by some of Rafe Cordeau’s men and held out there for three months. Some men came in and rescued her.”
Sonia glanced up at Molly as she held open the door to the coffee shop. Molly was really striking with her long blond hair and large blue eyes. She looked almost exotic with flawless pale skin and a generous mouth. She was tall and curvy, with legs that went on forever. Sonia could only dream about looking like her.
Jerry had said that Tregre, at one time in his life, had rescued victims of kidnappers. Was it possible he’d been in some way responsible for helping Pete’s niece? She was beginning to like Old Man Tregre already, long before she ever met him.
They found a quiet booth in the corner, Sonia taking the side that had her facing the front door and bank of windows along the street. She liked to see anything coming at her. Suddenly, she felt awkward. It had been a long time since she’d had a girlfriend.
“I work so much I think I’ve forgotten how to talk to people,” she admitted, deciding to tell as much of the truth as possible.
“Me too,” Molly said. “I moved here about a year ago, and I don’t really know anyone but the man bringing my gas, the grocery store clerk, and Bastien Foret, the biggest flirt in town.”
Sonia laughed. “I’ve not met Pete, although I’ve seen him. Bastien and I have an unfortunate acquaintance because I can’t keep my foot off the gas pedal, and Charity at the grocery store is an old favorite. I have to decide ahead of time which piece of gossip I can pay with or she’ll hold me hostage until I spill my guts out on the floor to her.”