Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 75240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
My brother was a big guy, and he’d been picking on me since I was old enough to walk.
I’d learned out of necessity how to fight.
With my mom gone a lot to work, when we were barely old enough to realize what was going on, and leaving my brother in charge, I learned quite a few lessons.
One, you didn’t fuck around with someone bigger than you. Especially someone who you knew could take you.
Two, it helped to be faster than your competition.
Three, if you couldn’t win, run.
Four, play dirty.
Simple as that.
The difference here, though, was that I was sure I could win.
The woman was about my height, but she was wearing at least five inch heels that would likely trip her up if I pushed her.
Her hair was down around her face, something I could easily grab a hold of if I needed to.
And she was about as skinny as my left thigh.
Needless to say, I looked like a behemoth next to her.
My round ass and thick thighs—which usually didn’t look too bad—looked terrible compared to her.
“The winner has to take a picture with me,” she smiled. “Track rules.”
“I’ll shove that flag up your ass before you get to take a picture with him,” I stated. “You can always try to pose with him, I guess, but I’m going to go ahead and tell you now that the picture likely won’t be the one you are planning on.”
“Angie!” Bowe called. “Come here.”
I smiled at the woman like I’d won the damn race myself and hustled over to Bowe.
The minute I was within reaching distance, he grabbed hold of my hand and yanked me to him, pressing his lips against mine without a second to spare.
“God, you taste good,” he growled.
“I had a cherry snow cone,” I told him. “And then half of a coconut one when Winter didn’t want hers anymore.”
He grinned down at me.
“Yum,” he moaned, taking another taste, this time letting his tongue trail directly against my lips.
I shivered and was just about to lean more fully into him when a throat cleared next to us.
“You could at least look like you’re sorry,” an amused voice said.
I turned, and then my eyes widened.
“You raced your boss?” I whispered to him. “Isn’t that like against the rules or something?”
Bowe snorted.
“I’ll try to remember that for next time,” Bowe replied with amusement before turning to Chief Alan. “You raced pretty good, but I expected you to give it the last little boost right there at the end, what happened?”
The Chief held up a bolt of some sort, and then smiled wryly.
“I’ll be needing a good mechanic,” he told him. “Broke the shifter clean in half.”
Bowe started to chuckle, and my mouth got away from me.
“It’s those guns of yours,” I pointed to his biceps. “And why do you get to have a beard and Bowe doesn’t?”
Chief Alan’s eyes lit with amusement.
“I’ve done forty years as a firefighter, Little Lady,” he said as he opened his door. “I’ve earned the right to have a beard.”
With that comment, he dropped into the car and started to putter away.
“If his shifter is broken,” I started. “How do you think he’s driving it?”
Bowe’s face showed his amusement.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
***
I looked at Jack and pursed my lips.
“I filed the restraining order, but apparently, it’s up to the judge to rule on it, so we will just have to wait to see what that the judgment is in the next couple of days,” I explained.
Jack nodded his head.
“I’ve looked into him, and although he does have records showing his arrests, nearly all but one have been dismissed,” he nodded.
“All but one?” Bowe asked, leaning back in his chair across from Jack.
The movement had him pulling me closer into his side almost subconsciously, and I found myself accommodating him without thinking about it.
“Petty theft,” Winter said before shoving a whole chip in her mouth. “When he was seventeen.”
“What’d he steal?” Bowe asked, picking his own chip up.
We were waiting for our food at my favorite Mexican restaurant, Cancun Dave’s, and Jack and Winter were telling us all that they’d been able to find out about one Troy Matthews.
What’d I’d heard so far was making me sick.
How I could have ever found this man attractive, let alone sleep with him, was beyond me.
“A car,” Jack smiled.
“What’s that smile for?” Bowe asked. “And what the fuck? That’s not petty.”
“Exactly what we were thinking,” Winter agreed, taking a sip of her margarita. “That’s why we continued to look into it.”
Bowe waited for them to explain, patiently.
Me, I was a ball of nerves.
While they were shoving chips into their face, I was barely able to hold my tea down.
I was literally going to die of annoyance if they didn’t start explaining shit instead of eating fucking chips.
Jack, knowing I was getting annoyed, had mercy on me and started to expound on his musings.