Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
But I can’t focus on the story even as the hero races down the city block, hunting for the one spot where he can possibly lose the guy who’s chasing him.
I’m too busy thinking of tomorrow. And the next day and the next. How the hell am I supposed to spend all this time with my sexy bodyguard who even my besties are drooling over from a distance? I’m not sure there’s enough room on my farm for him, my attraction, and me.
Then, I devise a plan to shake him. And I can’t wait for tomorrow to come.
14
SILENT CHICKEN
RIPLEY
Not many people wake up earlier than farmers.
On weekdays, I need to get everything ready in the fields before my employees come to work. Today I will use my early bird-ness to my advantage. Before the sun is even poking above the horizon on Friday morning, I’m up and out of bed, twisting my hair into a long ponytail, then pulling on shorts and a sports tank.
I smile evilly, then pat Hudson on the flank where he’s stretched out on the floor. “You ready to see how brilliant your mom is?”
He lifts his snout in curiosity.
“I say brilliant…” I hold up my palms like scales. “You say nefarious. What’s the difference?”
I grab socks and quietly pad downstairs. Hudson isn’t so quiet as he follows me, but Banks is in the cottage, so no way can he hear him. The floorboards creak as I make my way to the front door. In the foyer, I grab dog bags from the shelves, then tug on my sneakers and tie them quickly. Hudson’s leash is on a hook, so I slip that on my boy, then inch by quiet inch, I open the door.
I’m holding my breath the entire time.
When I survey the property for signs of the tattooed hottie and find none, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I look to the east. The pale light of dawn is starting to fade away as the morning’s first light brightens the edge of the world. At least I can get a walk in without that tempting man by my side. I’ll use the time to enjoy the sounds of the day beginning—a bird, the rustle of grass, the chewing of the horse at a pasture down the road. I hustle along the path toward the gate twenty feet away. My escape hatch.
Ten feet away.
Five feet.
Freedom is nigh! I’ll get thirty minutes, maybe an hour of alone time where I’m not amped up from being near that man.
I hazard a glance at the cottage.
Yes!
The lights aren’t even on. Ha. Someone likes to sleep in. And…it’s not my bodyguard. Because I jump, startled, since Banks is suddenly right beside me, wearing shorts, sneakers, and a workout tank, looking like he’s been up for an hour at least, waiting to ambush me.
Banks smiles, all crooked and cheerful. “You forgot to send me the agenda,” he says, but then shrugs happily. “But no worries. I took a guess you’d be up early with my new best friend.” He scratches Hudson’s ears, then rises to his full height—six foot three, I’m guessing. He’s all towering and strapping and yes, those tattoos do climb across his pecs since I just got a peek through his muscle tank. My mouth waters. Stupid mouth. “And I guess I was right,” he adds annoyingly, and annoying me.
“Yes, you were right, Banks. I do walk my dog in the morning,” I say, as I turn down the quiet road. “But I don’t like to talk at this hour.”
“No worries. I’ve got music to listen to,” he says, brandishing his earbuds from his pocket. My chest burns with irritation. I should have brought mine.
I wave to the gate. “How did you do that? Just appear out of nowhere?”
“It’s my special skill. Especially since I had a feeling you were going to break rule number one and rule number two.”
“There’s plenty of time for me to try again,” I say.
“I have no doubt.” He bends to pet my dog on the chin this time.
The traitor wags his tail and asks for more scratches. “Aww, such a good boy,” Banks says as Hudson bounces in response. “Guess I am good with my hands.”
I snap my gaze to him. “I wouldn’t know.”
Then I look ahead and try not to check out his arms, his legs, and his whole stupidly handsome body as we walk my dog in a silent game of chicken.
Forty-five minutes later, we’re back, and I’m seriously going to have to work harder to lose him.
But there’s more to my plan than my thwarted dog walk. It’s still early, but I know Grandma can cover for me for a couple hours.
When we near the porch, he says, “So, what’s on the agenda?”
I smile. “You want to be my shadow? Guess what? We’re doing yoga.”