Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
His frown of surprise is epic, instant, and now he’s the one moaning.
I laugh, licking the glaze from my fingers.
“You weren’t playing. That shit’s good. You need to make that. Naked.”
“Challenge accepted.”
“Don’t move. I gotta put this wheelbarrow back along the fence.”
“Oh, I am perfectly fine where I stand, but don’t be shocked if this baby is gone by the time you get back.” I tear off another piece.
“Trust me, Sweets. There would be no shock there.”
I watch his shoulders flex as he walks away, the veins in his arms begging to be licked on like my favorite lollipop.
“Sweet ride.”
My head snaps left, and I offer a close-lipped smile at the man walking by, swallowing the mouthful of sugar before I can speak. “Thanks.”
“A 1939 and with the original framework?” He lets out a low whistle of appreciation.
“Mirrors and all.”
The man smiles, nodding as he rounds for a better look, but leaves the five feet of distance between us. “Original color?”
“Original color, but fresh paint. Obviously.” I laugh and the man follows.
He’s tall, his hair dark and with grays sprinkled near his ears. His face is a bit weathered, but he’s in great shape for his age. I’d guess he’s no more than early forties, handsome enough, but in that hard, greased-up kind of way.
“Car connoisseur?” I guess.
The man shrugs, but a smirk follows. “I’m a lover of pretty things.”
“In the truck.”
My head snaps right to find Crew’s body stretched tall and wide, his face set hard and blank, his steps swift.
I open my mouth to tell him the guy was only admiring the truck, but Crew doesn’t even have to look at me to know I was about to speak.
He simply adds, “Now.”
There’s something about his approach, about the way he’s completely shifted when he was laughing and teasing two minutes ago, leading me to do exactly as he asked. I climb down without a word, bag in hand, and climb into the cab.
After a few moments, I dare a peek into the side mirror.
Crew has stepped up to the man, his hands clenched at his sides, jaw set tight, but the other man is grinning, his body relaxed, as if he has not a care in the world and is used to testosterone-driven young men. And maybe he is. He’s wearing biker boots, after all.
But then Crew gets in his face, and just like that, the man’s features shift, his eyes suddenly beady and dry.
He says something, holding out what looks like a business card in front of Crew, and the muscle in Crew’s neck bulges.
Lipreading is not a strength of mine, so my attempt is a full-on fail, and then the man’s gaze finds mine in the mirror.
I jerk away, anxious, but not ten seconds later, Crew is sliding into the seat at my side.
His hand shakes in anger as he slips the key in the ignition, and this time, he’s not gentle on the pedal.
Crew spins the tires, smoke barreling behind the truck, burying the man in it before peeling out onto the road.
Several minutes pass before he lets out a harsh breath.
“Everything okay?” I ask tentatively.
“Fine, just… give me a minute.” His tone is familiar, the dark and deranged one he uses when fighting for control… and trying his best not to tear off the heads of those around him. He was always notorious for picking fights, but he was smart about his choices. By that, I mean he would pick someone who deserved it… but also making sure they were larger than him because an easy knockout did nothing for his need to release the rage.
Unease settles in my gut, and I rack my brain for an idea of how to calm him when it hits me.
“Let’s take the long way home.”
“We’re headed for the bar. Best to take this stuff there.” His response is clipped and short, and he regrets it instantly, reaching over to smooth a hand down my thigh. “But, yeah, we can take the long way.”
I love how he doesn’t question what I want, just gives because he’s able. And if he weren’t, he’d work to find a way.
Crew rolls the windows down, turns the audio up, though not too loud, and after a few minutes, his exhales smooth out.
He’s so simple to please. Nothing but the breeze or the stars, a quiet night in or out, is all it takes to level him, but I know his mind continues to run regardless, which is why I plan to take it over.
The moment we hit the back roads, I unbuckle my seat belt, gliding along the seat until I’m at his side.
As I knew he would, Crew drapes an arm over the back of the seat, making more room for me to settle beside him, the road clear of stop signs, so the gears needed no more shifting for several miles.