Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
But still…it did hurt the slightest bit that I’d thought about how nice it was to have a man that was confident and sweet, but different.
This new man? The man that went by Bayou now and not Benson according to Hoax, my future brother-in-law, had insisted. Yeah, he was a whole new level of unreachable.
I heard the inner office door open and I looked up from my Kindle.
“Still reading,” Benson—Bayou—said.
I startled to find him staring directly at me.
I nodded once and hit the button that would shut the screen off and stood up.
Suddenly everything inside of me was taut with anticipation.
My eyes went over the man standing in front of me.
He no longer had problems meeting people’s eyes. I’d noticed that about him over the last few months that I’d been hanging around more thanks to my sister’s relationship with Hoax.
He also had zero problem standing up for himself or others.
At least that new trait was a relief. I didn’t like that he didn’t stand up for himself when he was younger.
“Brielle?” Bayou frowned. “What are you doing here?”
Brielle looked at me, then looked at Bayou, and grinned.
“I was here to interview for the new job that you have open,” she answered.
I stiffened.
That hadn’t been what she told the guard as she was arriving. She’d told him that she was there to ask Bayou if she could borrow something, and she thought she had a better chance of getting it if she came by in person and asked.
What a bitch!
She hadn’t been here to apply for a job! The only reason she was ‘applying’ for it now was because she’d heard me say that I was there interviewing for it! Fucker!
“We’ll talk later,” he muttered. “Right now, I’m interviewing her.” He looked back to me. “You ready?”
I stood up and went into his inner office, suddenly extremely nervous.
I saw his eyes go to my wrists, taking in the tattoos that just barely peeked out of the bottom of my long-sleeved shirt.
I wore the shirt for obvious reasons. When interviewing for a new job, I wanted to make a good first impression. What I did not want to do was put my arms that were full of tattoos on display. Because being on display meant that they were up for discussion, and for this man, I couldn’t discuss them.
The first hint of the old Benson that I knew finally reared his head as he reached out and touched first the tattoo on my left wrist, and then the one on my right.
“This isn’t an easy job,” he said, his gray eyes connecting with mine. “But nothing will hurt you.”
I smiled then, feeling for the first time a sense of hope start to course through me. The old Benson was in there somewhere. He was just doing a damn fine job of hiding him. Controlling him.
“I know you’d never let me get hurt,” I murmured. “And that’s very nice of you. But I can handle my own.”
He looked at my five-foot-three height, my small stature, and snorted.
The bastard.
“I’m sure you could hold your own against a flea,” he admitted. “But against these hardened criminals? You’d be eaten alive in seconds.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. “I’m more than happy to prove you wrong.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” He laughed in my face. “Gonna challenge me to a wrestling match?”
The thought of rolling around on the ground with him was highly tempting, but there was no way in hell I was going to admit that.
“No,” I said carefully. “But if you give me this job, I’d be more than willing to prove it to you that way.”
He didn’t smile with his mouth, but his eyes told a different story.
“Then you have it.” He stood up and offered me his hand.
It was smooth and rough, warm and strong.
“Let me go get the paperwork.”
Brielle was waiting in the outer office area when Bayou finally opened the door.
“My turn?” Brielle popped up.
Bayou turned his gaze from me to her. “No. Fancy has the job.”
I felt my heart skip a beat.
“But, Bayou,” Brielle whined. “I hate my job at the hospital and you know it! Plus, you know me!”
“And I really care for you,” Bayou muttered darkly. “And I don’t want you getting hurt here. I’d be gutted if something happened to you.”
I felt the burn straight to my soul.
Meaning that he cared if Brielle was hurt, but not me, seeing as he’d just offered me the job.
Hitching my shirt sleeves up in annoyance, I started out of the room, heading straight for the bars at the end of the hallway that separated this wing of the prison from the rest of the prison.
I’d made it to the guard and was waiting patiently for the guard to get it open when I heard my name called from behind me.