Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
“I’d appreciate knowing. Who’s your commander?”
“Jerico Adams is my team leader and Caden McDonald is my team chief. I can provide their contact information if you would like that,” Max replied easily, noting she must have family in the military or military experience.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Saylor held out her hand for his artwork. “Team? You’re special forces?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Max didn’t give any details. Protecting his team took precedence over impressing anyone. Not that he ever gave a fuck what anyone thought.
“I was interested that you chose to draw while modeling. Many will not choose to do that.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Ah, achieving the objective,” she said, showing insight into a military mindset.
“Yes, ma’am.” He extended his drawing with a nervousness that surprised him. Her opinion mattered to him.
Max saw her eyes widen as she looked at her own portrait. “I thought I was your target. I wondered if you were sketching me as retaliation for asking you to pose first. This is flattering, not the angry characterization of someone unpleasant.”
“Someone had to go first. It made perfect sense to choose the jerk that came late.”
“Perhaps with a reason,” she suggested. “This shows talent. I’ll look forward to seeing more of your work.”
“Thank you. You interest me.” Max saw her face harden and kicked himself mentally. “As an image to capture. Good angles, expression, and all that.”
“Oh, gotcha. What are you looking for out of this class?”
“I destroy a lot of things all the time. Having the chance to create something is important to me. Thank you for teaching the class.” Max looked at the empty classroom around them and asked, “Can I walk you to your car? This is a safe area, but my mother always taught me to be a gentleman.”
The shadows hovering in her eyes darkened with concern. He could tell she wanted to say no, but something made her debate internally. Was she in trouble somehow?
“Thank you. Your mother raised you right. I’ll take you up on that if you’ll give me a couple minutes to gather my things.”
“No rush, Professor.” Max moved slightly away to lounge against the wall.
“Saylor. I don’t stand on titles.”
He nodded. She was a puzzle. Max had gotten a glimpse of her sketch. She was talented. He glanced over the syllabus as he waited and checked for her contact information. Saylor. That wasn’t how he expected her name to be spelled. The uniqueness suited her.
Max turned his attention to the coursework. The different class titles intrigued him. He would learn a lot from her this semester. Hopefully, the team would remain based at home for a few months.
“I’m ready, Max. I’m parked in the lot behind the building.”
Saylor closed her portfolio and hefted it onto her shoulder. Max squashed his first inclination to offer to carry it for her. She wouldn’t interpret that well. He walked quietly by her side. To his surprise, she didn’t talk nervously but accepted his escort quietly.
When they reached her sleek sports car, she put the portfolio in her trunk before turning to face him. “Thank you, Max. I’ll see you next week.”
“See you next week, Saylor.”
Max waited for Saylor to slide behind the driver’s wheel. When he heard the engine start and the locks engage, he headed toward the sidewalk to jog to his truck. Each strike of his boots on the concrete sent a jolt of discomfort through his torso. He’d shower and slather himself with the smelly balm that would tornado through his sinuses but suck the soreness from his injury.
Despite his discomfort, his brain didn’t stop thinking about the art professor.
Why does she have mace and a whistle on her keychain?
CHAPTER 2
Driving away from the faculty lot, Saylor forced her eyes from the rearview mirror. Watching him lope away like a predator pushed her arousal higher than the edge she’d tried to ignore all evening. A honk from behind at a stoplight when the light turned green reminded her to focus on the road. She always stayed vigilant.
When the garage door slid shut behind her, Saylor relaxed. She was home. Deciding to leave her work in the trunk until tomorrow, she headed inside and entered the code to turn off her alarm before rearming it.
The cool colors of her house relaxed her. She loved the calming blue walls and the oak trim that made this place feel like home. The interior wasn’t the trendy gray or white neutrality that appeared in so many decorator magazines. That cold look didn’t inspire her artistic side.
After drawing the blinds, Saylor flipped off the lights and walked to her bedroom. She stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the hamper before walking into the bathroom, turning on the shower to warm. Quickly, she brushed her teeth while she waited. Her phone buzzed, capturing her attention.
A text popped in providing the names and contact information for Max’s leadership. Saylor didn’t plan to communicate with them, but she’d found living close to base, having that information had come in handy for good and bad reasons. A memory of Max’s chiseled strength popped into her mind. She popped herself on the forehead to banish it and stepped into the shower.