Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 83167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
He’d never leave me, unless it was safe to do that.
Still, he’d been around every day. I was used to him. I liked being used to him. And the situation was fraught.
So yeah.
I was a little freaked.
I moved silently back to the bedroom and assessed my options for a weapon, just in case.
I could use a shoe, though if I did actually have to use it, that would include getting in close proximity of someone I thought was a bad guy.
I didn’t want to do that.
So no shoe.
I had a can of Mace, but that was in my purse which was on the seat of the hall tree downstairs.
I decided to buy some Mace for my nightstand.
And I went with hairspray. A shot in the face might incapacitate somebody long enough I could run away.
I had three different kinds (light hold, medium hold, and super hold).
I decided on super hold.
I uncapped it, put the cap on the counter, stole out of the bathroom and skulked down the hall, then the stairs, thanking God I’d had a thick, buttery-cream carpet runner installed in both.
It was when I hit the wood floors at the bottom I was glad my feet were bare.
I turned, moved through the arch into the living room and stopped dead.
This was because the lights were on in the kitchen and there was a very tall, very muscled dude (not taller or more muscled than Mo, but then again, not many were) standing at my Nespresso machine. He was wearing olive drab cargos and a white T-shirt.
His head was turned to me.
Thick head of silvery-gray hair, even though I could tell by his face he hadn’t lived the years to earn that color.
Too far away to note the color of his eyes.
Totally not too far away to see he was gorgeous.
Undoubtedly one of Hawk’s dudes for no man who looked like this could be a crackpot, or at least I hoped the laws of the universe weren’t that twisted.
“What’s with the hairspray?” he asked.
“To incapacitate you so I can run away,” I told him. “I had a selection and went with super hold.”
“Good choice,” he replied.
“Who are you?”
“Name’s Axl. One of Hawk’s men. Buddy of Mo’s.”
I lowered my weapon, now on the subject that interested me. “Where’s Mo?”
He turned fully my way and leaned a slim hip against the counter. “Caught the guy. Mo’s with Hawk. He told me to tell you if you woke up before he got back that he’d be back as soon as he could.”
I bet he would.
But…
They got him.
Ohmigod, they got him.
Instead of doing a round-off followed by an arms-up-in-the-air, heels-kicked-back jump, I walked to my coffee table and put the hairspray down.
When I gave my attention back to Axl, I saw I hadn’t lost his.
“Mind if I have some coffee?” he asked.
“Help yourself,” I answered, wandering toward the kitchen and stopping. “Pods in the cupboard above the machine.”
He reached to the cupboard above the machine.
“Who was he?” I asked.
“Semi-regular. Total whackjob,” he muttered, putting the bowl of pods on the counter and hitting the button on top, making it blink green.
Then he turned again toward me.
Whoa.
Clear, ice-blue eyes.
Nice.
“He comes to the club on occasion,” he went on. “And—”
He cut himself off as he tensed, straightened and then used those long legs of his to move toward me, by me then stop four feet beyond me just as I heard the front door slam, heavy footfalls…
I stepped to the side so I could see past Axl.
Then I stopped dead.
Because Mo caught sight of me and he stopped dead one foot into the living room.
My panties grew wet and my mind went into a trance as Mo again very successfully communicated non-verbally.
This time he was communicating the wait was over.
And what was to come next was going to be worth that wait.
“Go,” he grunted.
“Gotcha,” Axl replied, humor dripping off that word. “Nice to meet you, Lottie,” he said as he strolled across the room.
I stared at Mo and didn’t say a word.
I’d apologize for being rude later.
Vaguely, I heard the front door open.
Vaguely, I heard the front door close.
I forced myself to speak.
“They got him?”
“They got him.”
We stared at each other.
We stared at each other longer.
Then in a sudden burst of movement, I raced toward him.
I also raced right by him so I could sprint up the stairs.
All those nights with Mo on my couch wishing he was somewhere else, this was happening in my bed.
I heard the thunderous falls of Mo’s boots hitting the steps behind me and I knew by their tempo that he was skipping some.
And my panties got wetter.
I ran into my room, twirled to face the door, the voluminous folds of my smock nightie flying out, exposing panty I was sure, and I saw Mo enter the room.
He stopped advancing but not moving. However, he moved only to take his gun with holster off his belt and toss it to the foot of the bed.