Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
I’ll never forget the time we’d both been at the supermarket, and Jessica Sparks tried to snag his attention. That’s not normally hard for her to do. All of the men in town drool over her. She’s got these big boobs and bright blue eyes. She’s also crazy tall, with legs for days.
She’s on her third marriage. She jumps from man to man, always wanting something new and shiny. Saint all but barked at her to get away from him when she tried to flirt with him. She’d given me a death glare when he wandered over my way and started asking me about which cookies were the best in the bakery department. I’d ended up bringing him over some I’d made.
He’s really not in town often, but somehow I always manage to run into him when he is there for some reason. Sometimes I wonder if there’s this invisible thing that is always pulling us together.
My mom and grams believe in that kind of stuff. They have all kinds of ideas abouts love and having a destined soul mate. It’s hard not to believe them. They have the kind of marriages a lot of girls dream of having. Well, I know I do.
Some might think I’m too simple, but it’s always been my dream to go to college and come back home to get married and have a bunch of babies. The best times of my life have happened in this town and with my family.
Some women have big dreams of moving to the city, and that’s great. Everyone should go after what they want. I try not to let it bother me when people give me a sad smile when I tell them what I want in life. I’d gotten that a ton in college.
“Was that rude? It was rude. I shouldn’t have said that.” He pops another grape into his mouth. I try not to fidget under his stare. He’s been watching me like I’m his own personal cooking show or something. It’s the least I can do since I’m going to be stuck here for who knows how long. I’m just happy we found Bear, and he’s okay.
“You can say anything you want, Marley. In fact, I love your bluntness. I find it refreshing.”
“Oh well then, I might as well ask away. How did you get so rich? You go to some fancy college?” The questions pop right out of me.
“No college for me. The FBI busted down my door when I was seventeen. Said I could either work for them or go to prison.” I stare at him, waiting for him to smirk or something cause he’s teasing me, but Saint isn’t the teasing type. He’s being serious. Holy crap.
“What did you do?” I whisper when I get over my shock.
“Like you, I can be a bit nosy.” Now he smirks.
“Hey, I’m not nosy. I was helping you with all those boxes. You should be thanking me.”
“Thank you.” He actually winks at me. My insides flutter. I’ve always thought Saint was handsome, but add in him being charming all of a sudden, and my crush is not going to handle this well.
“You can thank me by telling me what you did to get the FBI’s attention.” I’m actually surprised when he starts to spill everything to me. It’s also the most I’ve ever heard him talk in one sitting. He’s not only rich but crazy smart too.
I’m not surprised. It’s a bit unfair that he gets to be all those things and handsome as well. Some people have all the luck. This does, however, explain why he's an introvert. He spends most of his time alone with a bunch of computers. Gosh, I’m probably going to end up driving him crazy.
“I learned a lot from the FBI. I’m actually thankful I got caught. Who knows what I might have gotten mixed up in?”
“I didn’t know the FBI paid so well.” I glance around the fancy kitchen. A bark of laughter comes from Saint. The sound is sexy as hell. I didn’t know a laugh could be sexy.
“They didn’t back then. They do now when they want my help. I freelance for them now.”
“Only for the good guys?”
“You trying to catch me in something, Deputy Hudson?”
“No!” I squeak. “Sometimes I forget I’m a cop.”
“And how did that happen?” he asks. I push a few of the chicken cutlets that are done already across the island so he can snack on them. “You have a degree in social work.”
“I do. How did you know that?”
“You must have told me,” he says before he shoves one of the pieces of chicken into his mouth.
“Oh.” I don’t recall that, but maybe I did. I tend to ramble. But I don’t usually talk about college much.
“Why?” he asks. I hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.