Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
The car smells like him, and the inside is just as clean as the outside; there isn’t even a little dust on the dash. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see him open the back passenger door then watch him take off his shirt and toss it inside before reaching in and grabbing a new one, putting it on before slamming the door closed.
“Oh my,” I breathe, turning to face forward, hoping he didn’t see me checking him out.
“So you live around here?” he asks as soon as he opens his door.
“Yeah, just a few blocks over off Lowery in the Hamilton subdivision,” I say as he slides his tall, lean frame behind the wheel.
“That’s a nice area.”
It is nice, and I will never be able to afford a house in that subdivision. The only reason I can afford my one bedroom apartment there is because my landlords, Mr. and Mrs. Dennison, take a huge chunk of my rent off each month so that I can help them out with babysitting when they need a night out or just need a break from their four kids. They’re adorable but total hellions.
“Do you live with your parents?”
“No.”
“Houses in that subdivision are close to a mill.”
“I know,” I agree as he studies me like he’s trying to figure out how I can afford to live in that area.
“Where do you work?”
“Are you a cop?”
“No.”
“You should be,” I inform him, and his lips twitch. Letting out a sigh, I roll my eyes when I see he’s not going to give it up. “I rent an apartment above a garage from a doctor and his wife who live in the subdivision. I help them out with babysitting, and they give me a break on rent each month,” I rattle out quickly then pull in a breath and let it out. “Is there anything else you need to know right now?”
“I want to know everything.” He turns away from me to face the windshield. “But I’m thinking that will all come with time.”
My breath leaves on a whoosh, and my heart starts to pound against my ribcage as I watch him back out of the parking spot. I don’t know if he meant to make that statement sound like we would be spending time together or not, but it did, and the thought of getting to know this man has my stomach filling with butterflies and my palms sweating.
“You okay?”
Turning my head, I find him studying me closely. “Yeah, totally cool.” I drop my purse to the floorboard then wipe my hands down the front of my bare thighs. “So, if you’re not a cop, what do you do?”
“I work with my cousin.”
“Okay…” I wait to see if he will fill me in, but he doesn’t. “What kind of work do you do with your cousin?”
“Private security, bounty hunting, PI work, we do it all.”
“So you’re kind of like a cop, but you’re not a cop. Why is that?”
“My dad’s a cop. He loves his job but hates that he has to deal with red tape. He can’t just go in and get a job done. He has to make sure all the i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed.”
“So you don’t like red tape.”
“Basically,” he concurs as we pull into the drive through line of one of the small coffee huts that sits in a parking lot on Main Street. “Do you know what you’d like?”
“A large iced green tea,” I murmur, leaning forward to grab my purse so I can get some cash out. As soon as we pull up in front of the window, he places our order with the girl working inside. “Here.” I hold the ten-dollar bill in my hand toward him, and he shakes his head. “Please, let me pay for our drinks,” I press, but he ignores me and pulls down his visor, taking down a twenty from the bills he has stacked there. “You know, it’s kind of annoying that you won’t let me pay,” I inform him as he hands me my drink.
“You’ll survive.” He smiles at me before giving the girl a tip and pulling away from the window. “What’s your plans for the day?”
“I have a date with a bookshelf I bought from IKEA that will likely take me a year to put together. What about you?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink.
“My schedule’s clear. Do you want some help putting it together?”
“Really?” I ask, stunned, and he brakes at a stop sign then turns to look at me.
“Sure.”
Wow, okay.
“That would be really nice,” I respond quietly as warmth and something soft and sweet spreads through me.
“Good,” he replies just as quietly, heading back to the mechanic shop, where he waits for me to pick up my car and pay before following me back to my place.