Lord Have Mercy Read online Lani Lynn Vale (Southern Gentleman #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Southern Gentleman Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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Okay, granted, the donut shop was kind of small. But, saying that, I hadn’t taken long. I’d been here for less than three minutes. How did I know that? Because I had a goddamn watch. I knew how long I’d been standing there.

“Here ya go, ma’am,” I heard from behind me.

I backed up and my ass hit the counter.

I couldn’t hide the wince that struck me when my sore butt hit the hard, unforgiving surface.

Flint, of course, missed nothing.

He saw the flinch and grinned in reaction.

I narrowed my eyes and turned on my heels, reaching for my box and my card.

“Come back soon!” she called to my back.

I lifted my hand and waved over my shoulder, moaning when the movement made muscles I didn’t even know I had scream in agony.

Opening my car door, I locked my lips and bent into the car, breathing through the pain it caused me to reach over the seat to place the donuts.

It was when I dropped in myself that I turned to look only to see Flint smirking at me, a glazed donut in his hand, and flakes of glaze on his lips.

I wanted to lick those lips clean and then punch him in the mouth.

The little bastard was taunting me.

I damn well knew he didn’t usually get donuts. He was a sausage kolache kind of man. That I’d figured out a year ago when he’d started at the school as the resource officer.

Clenching my hands into tight fists, I looked away and refused to rise to his taunts.

***

Flint

She had that walk about her. The kind where it showed that she was sore as fuck and trying to move but couldn’t quite accomplish it with her usual grace. Muscles that she’d either A, not used in a while, or B, had never used before in her life, were likely sore as fuck.

We’d done some hard moves yesterday, and she was likely feeling it today.

She had that waddle going on right that very moment.

“How’s it going, Mizz Presley?” I teased.

Camryn’s head turned, and even that move caused her to wince.

She stopped and curled her lip up.

“It’s going fine,” she lied.

I hadn’t seen her since the donut shop that morning, and I was more than looking forward to seeing her during class again today.

Yesterday she’d thoroughly surprised me with the hard work she’d put in during the boot camp. Then again, it’d also surprised me that she’d worked out without her shirt on. Camryn was a beautiful woman, and even now, with her being brand-new to the world of CrossFit, she was still breathtakingly beautiful.

“You ready to get to boot camp?” I asked, running my hand along Dooley’s head as he leaned farther into my side.

She didn’t look down, and I had a feeling she was trying to force herself not to.

What was her deal with the dog?

I was ashamed to say that I really fucking wanted to know why.

“I guess I’m ready as I’ll…”

“What are you doing?” I heard asked from behind me.

I didn’t bother to hide my wince.

Nivea.

Camryn caught the wince, too.

Her eyebrows rose, and she looked at me like I was crazy in my head.

Turning my head only, I looked over my shoulder at the woman that was becoming increasingly more difficult to deal with on a daily basis.

“Nivea,” I said. “I thought you were on bus duty?”

Nivea’s eyes narrowed. “I am.”

I looked around the parent pick-up line and frowned. “If you’re on bus duty, why the hell are you here?”

She crossed her arms angrily over her chest. “Because I saw you over here talking to her.”

I gritted my teeth, and was about to reply when Camryn said, “You do realize, right, that the point of ‘bus duty’ is to make sure that none of the little Kindergarteners that have to cross to the high school campus to get on the bus don’t get hit by a freakin’ car, right?”

I felt my heart stutter at that.

She sounded pissed, and she had a right to be.

Nivea, however, did not have that right. Apparently, she was under the assumption that I was not allowed to hold conversations with women that weren’t her.

“The kids are still on the other campus,” Nivea argued, adding foot tapping into the mix.

I nearly groaned. “Nivea, go back to your scheduled post. Now.”

Nivea narrowed her eyes even more, and at this point, I wasn’t sure they were even open at all with the disdain she was conveying.

“I will not.”

“You will,” I said in a hard voice. “Or I’ll let the principal know that you’re unfit for this particular duty.”

I was at my wit’s end.

This afternoon, I was ending it with the woman.

There was no way I could play this game with her anymore.

On top of the irrational jealousy, the calls, and her constant need for attention, I realized rather quickly that there wasn’t much substance to the woman at all. She was like a piece of fluff.


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