Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Her breath hitched. “B-bullets?”
“I was wearing armor both times. I’m a lucky guy, Slick. Plus, I’m good at what I do. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I promise you.” Her hand accidentally brushed gun tucked inside his waistband and she drew in a sharp breath. “I told you, I’m good at what I do, Slick. You’ve got to trust me. I play it safe. Always.” She stepped back and he looked her over. It was obvious she’d been crying in her sleep. “Give me a pillow, Slick.”
Her eyebrows knitted together. “W-what?”
“A pillow. I’m on your couch tonight.”
She stared at him. “You don’t have to do that.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Are you ever gonna stop busting my balls?” Slowly, she slid a pillow off the mattress and handed it to him. “Good night, Hayley.”
Chris tossed the pillow on the couch, set the .44 down on the coffee table, and laid down. He listened for it, but did not hear Slick moving the dresser back in front of her bedroom door. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes.
In the morning, she emerged wearing yoga pants and a t shirt. “Thanks for staying,” she told him as he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Not a problem, Slick. Think you could make me some of those pancakes, though?”
She smiled and nodded and started the coffee maker. As it brewed she set about gathering ingredients in the kitchen. He ambled over and leaned against the counter watching her. “So what’s on the menu today?” he asked her. “For lunch.”
“Tofu chili.”
He grimaced. “Tell me you’re not serious.”
“It’s healthy and you said I have a fat ass!”
“Damn. You really do hold a grudge.” The coffee maker beeped and he retrieved two cups from the cupboard where he knew she kept them. On his way to the coffee maker, he swatted her ass with the back of his hand. She yelped and dropped a whole egg into the pancake batter. “I said I like your ass, Slick. Learn to take a compliment.” He poured a mug, tossed in three sugar cubes Slick kept in a bowl by the coffee maker, and handed it to her. Her face had turned red and she took the mug from him, ducking her head to avoid his gaze.
“We’re having pulled pork sandwiches,” she muttered.
“Thank God,” Chris said, pouring himself some coffee.
“And I’m making chocolate cake.”
His eyebrows knitted together and he took a sip from his steaming mug of black joe. “Thought that was for Poker Night.”
“It is,” Hayley said, setting a pan on the burner and heating it. “It’s a new recipe from a magazine and I want to try it out first before I make it for real.”
“Oh, so I’m your guinea pig?”
“That a problem?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Good.”
Slick sliced bananas into the batter while the butter melted into the pan. “Do you like bacon?” she asked suddenly.
“Obviously. I am male, Slick.”
She nodded, spooning a bit of the batter onto the pan. “I don’t have any. But I could get some. Like for BLT’s and stuff. I wouldn’t normally buy bacon because you only get it in that huge pack and it would take a really long time to eat that much bacon.”
“Perhaps you don’t love bacon as much as I do,” he mused.
She laughed. “So,” she cleared her throat a little nervously and flipped the pancake with a spatula. “Maybe we could go to the store today. After lunch.”
He thought it was cute the way she was asking him for a ride. “Slick, I already said that.”
She looked up at him. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No,” she said, adamantly shaking her head.
“I said last week we’d go to the store.”
“That was last week, though.”
He sighed dramatically. “I meant every week. I thought it was obvious.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
He nodded. “We need better coffee though,” he declared. “What is this?”
“It’s Hazelnut Vanilla.”
He frowned. “Slick, that’s girly coffee.”
“Well, I don’t really like coffee.”
“Okay, now you’re just scaring me.”
She rolled her eyes at him and handed him a plate of three cakes. He set it on the island, dug a fork out of the drawer, and searched for the syrup in the fridge. Slick sliced off a pat of butter and put it on top for him. He ate standing up at the counter. She made him two more and three for herself and they took their plates to her small table.
“These are really good,” he told her.
“I’m thinking of branching out. Pecans, chocolate chips, cinnamon, pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin pancakes? Sounds awesome,” he decided.
“Well,” she said, taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully. “You could come over sometime and I could make them. ‘Cause I really want to try them.”
“So far this guinea pig thing is working out,” he declared around a mouthful of pancakes. “Looking forward to the chocolate cake.”
“Me too,” she replied.