Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
The sheriff looked from Kip to me, his eyes wide, and fuck if he didn’t look like he was fighting back a smile.
Because I was still a little drunk, my blood was hot, and I was aptly offended, I wanted to slap him or something.
I wasn’t usually so quick to violence.
And I actually liked the sheriff.
Or I used to.
“Jesus Christ, Fiona,” Kip said, grabbing the back of my neck to pull me into his body. As if he knew I was about to do something stupid. “The man is well aware you have a mouth. In fact, this whole town is aware you have a mouth.”
I directed my glare upward at him. “And you expect me to shut it because now I have a husband to speak for me?”
Kip grinned. “Fuck no,” he said. “Life wouldn’t be nearly as exciting if you kept your mouth shut.”
I scowled at him, ready to shoot another retort, but Kip was still speaking.
“Thanks for this,” he said to the sheriff.
“Don’t thank him,” I snapped.
“He’s the one making sure you’re not getting held or having charges laid against you,” Kip reminded me.
“Yes, but neither are the men who need to be.” I turned to the sheriff. “I expect you’ll get on that?”
He nodded sternly, but yet again, I got the impression that the fucker was trying really hard not to smile. “I’ll be making sure of it,” he promised.
I gauged his sincerity. “Well, just remember, I’m responsible for you getting caffeine and sugar. It would be a shame if someone put salt instead of syrup in your coffee and you suddenly stopped getting pastries without scorch marks,” I threatened.
Such a threat was empty. Nora never burned anything, and I wouldn’t actually put salt in his coffee when I was sober. But I sounded sincere enough.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” the sheriff said, nodding once and walking back into the station.
Calliope had been silent during this entire exchange, which surprised me. Calliope Derrick could be described as a lot of things, but quiet was not one of them.
Glancing over in her direction—it was kind of hard because Kip’s hand was still on my neck, and he didn’t seem to be letting me go—I saw she was focused on her phone, brows drawn together in a serious frown.
Interesting.
“You ready to go, Cal?” I asked her.
Her head snapped up. The frown was gone. Her expression was smooth and placid, composed. “I’ve got my own ride.” She held up her phone. “You two go and have wild sex somewhere on the side of the road or on the beach.”
Though I had been mad at Kip, the prospect of wild sex was enticing.
“We’re not leavin’ you alone,” Kip grumbled from above me, obviously not as excited at the prospect of wild sex as I was.
Calliope rolled her eyes. “I’m standing outside a police station in a town that hasn’t seen a serious crime in years.”
She was mostly right. Jupiter was one of the safest places I’d ever lived. It was small, and most people knew each other, looked out for each other. But it was also a tourist town, so every summer, the population surged, and with the extra people came increases for drunken fights, thefts, vandalism, and things of that nature.
Even outside of tourist season, it wasn’t immune to drug problems or domestic violence problems. The realities of the world seeped in every now and then.
But that was life on planet Earth, unfortunately.
“We’re not leavin’,” Kip repeated in his ‘I’m not taking arguments’ tone.
Much like me, Calliope had an immediate reaction to the aforementioned tone. She was not a fan.
Her hand went to her hip, one brow arched, and she tilted her head to regard him. A pose that should be universally recognized as the Female Battle Stance.
“You really think you can protect me any more than I can protect myself, Kippers?” she asked. “Let’s not forget who routinely beat you up throughout your childhood.”
Kip’s grip tightened around me. When I looked up, I swore his cheeks were getting a bit red.
“You were twice the size you should’ve been for your age,” he retorted. “You were a fucking monster.”
I smacked him on the arm.
Calliope grinned. “He’s not wrong,” she said. “I may have lost the baby fat, but I’m still a fucking monster, Kippers. And as much as I understand the alpha male sentiment since I’m related to one, I really must insist you put your dick away. We all know it’s big. You don’t need to swing it.”
I choked back a giggle.
Kip was not even close to giggling. Although he didn’t look pissed off either. He looked amused and somewhat weathered to such talk from Calliope. From what I’d heard, they had grown up as close as siblings, and I would hazard a guess that this wasn’t the first time she’d given him the dressing-down he was routinely in need of.