Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Just like that, my problems are solved.
For now.
8
CARRIE
We get dressed and head downstairs, greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs frying in the kitchen. Finding a table, Judge pulls out my chair and kisses the top of my head. A few minutes later, Frasier joins us with a serving tray full of food.
“Now, I didn’t know what you liked, so I made a little bit of everything,” he says before setting it down.
“You didn’t have to go all out on my behalf, but thank you,” I say, almost embarrassed by how loud my tummy’s grumbling. Only after smelling the food did I realize how hungry I was, but Judge and I were so busy last night, neither of us cared to stop for a snack break.
“Tell that to the scary fucker sitting next to you,” Frasier teases Judge, filling a plate with the breakfast assortment. He doesn’t join us at the table, opting to eat at the bar with his newspaper.
Judge and I eat quickly and mostly in silence. He’s itching to get out of the Stoneworks Pub, it seems, so I scarf down a slice of toast, an egg, and a few strips of bacon as fast as I can. Then we’re off in his truck, driving less than ten minutes to get into town.
“It’s a lot more beautiful than I expected,” I say once we’re parked.
Short, stubby buildings line the street, but each one has a different look and feel than the last. Some are white, some blue, and some look like they’re made out of pure wood. Signs hang in front of the doors, cars line the street, but what I like most are the trees lining the walkway.
“Still, it pales in comparison to you,” he responds, drawing deep from his poetic well.
“Stop,” I say, covering my face with a palm. “You’re gonna make me blush.”
“Too late for that.” He winks at me and opens his door. “You’re red as a tomato already.”
I join him on the sidewalk, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out something’s off with him. He’s eyeing the length of the street suspiciously, with his jaw clenched down so hard, a vein’s starting to stick out on his neck.
I don’t pry, the same way I didn’t earlier. Whatever Frasier told him before we left wasn’t just about the sheriff’s visit. Judge doesn’t seem to put much weight into what the sheriff thinks of him, and a visit from the law wouldn’t rattle his cage like this.
But his business is his own. I’m here if he needs someone to talk to, but I can’t insert myself into his life more than I already have.
“What would you like to start with?” He asks, taking my hand as we start to walk.
“A toothbrush.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Fair point. General stores over this way. Shouldn’t be far from the clothing one.”
I make quick work of the toiletries shop, grabbing a toothbrush, paste, mouthwash, and a few other necessities. At the counter, Judge insists on paying, even though the only thing I managed to bring with me was my wallet.
“Sure you have everything you need?” He asks as we step outside, lifting the bag as if weighing its contents.
“For now,” I say, coiling our fingers together as we head over to the clothes store across the street. “I’m more excited to get out of these, if I’m honest.”
I almost feel bad for him, knowing that I’m going to be spending the next hour shuffling through different outfits until I find the right stuff. But I don’t when I realize he’s going to be there with me, watching me change, and inspecting every new garment I try on.
Judge looks incredibly uncomfortable while I walk through the aisles picking out various outfits to try on. I can’t tell if it’s because of whatever has him stirred up, or if it’s because he’s a big, hulking beast standing in front of the most scandalous underwear section I’ve ever seen.
For such a small town, they sure like crotchless panties and lace underwear.
“You want to come with me while I try these on?” I ask him when I’ve got a bunch of stuff.
“Nothing would make me happier,” he says, grabbing an armful until I’m carrying a single shirt.
Who says chivalry is dead?
We stop outside the fitting rooms, and I gather the clothes from Judge. “Wait here and I’ll be back in a second, okay?”
I start with the normal clothes. Different types of shorts and jeans, and a bunch of different shirts and sweaters. Nothing too revealing for the moment, but Judge still manages to catcall and goad me on every time I open the door to show him an outfit. Slipping out of the last actual outfit I plan on getting, I pull on a powder blue see-through negligee and a dark satin nightgown.