Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Reluctantly she sat up straight and peeled her arms back from his waist. She wobbled a little getting off and he held her arm to keep her from falling.
“Thanks for the ride,” she finally told him. “And for…the rest.”
The look on her face and the fact that if she bit that bottom lip any harder she was going to draw blood told him that Slick knew exactly what a house mouse was. He smiled at her. “Well, no one’s gonna bother you now. Not the Buzzards, anyway. I guarantee it. But there are still some unsavory characters at Maria’s every now and then so from now on every night you close, you’re on my bike,” he told her. Hayley’s eyes widened. “Slick” he said, voice full of warning.
“Okay,” she finally agreed.
“That’s my girl.”
***************************
All the tension that had been roiling in Hayley’s belly came to a complete standstill at his words. My girl. My girl. She thought of the blond the prospect had mentioned the night before and wondered if she really was his girl. For one instant, Hayley was insanely, inexplicably, intolerably….jealous? But she clamped down on that feeling. Hard. That was not a thing she needed to look at closer. Not at all. In fact she needed to just nip all that right in the bud.
She snorted, rather unattractively she thought, if she did say so herself. “House mouse,” she muttered. “I’m pretty sure I remember saying adamantly that I wouldn’t sleep with you.”
He laughed and swung his leg over the bike, standing up. “Only you and I will know the truth.”
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “What about the blond?” When Chris raised his eyebrows at her she quickly amended, “I don’t want some biker babe coming into Maria’s looking for me ‘cause she thinks her man’s cheating on her.”
To her relief, he shook his head. “Blond’s just a friend. She’s got no claim on me and she won’t come looking for you if she hears about our little ruse.”
Hayley eyed him skeptically. “Well, okay,” she told him, teasingly. “But if you’re lying and I have to go all Crouching Tiger on some poor misguided woman, I’m gonna come to your garage and go all Hidden Dragon on you.”
Chris laughed uproariously. “Slick, soaking wet you still wouldn’t outweigh my boots.”
She grinned. “Maybe that doesn’t matter,” she told him. “Maybe I have mad kung fu skills that you don’t know about.”
He grinned back at her. “No, you don’t.”
She sighed. “No,” she agreed. “I don’t. But I will come to your garage. And cry. Like a lot.”
He scowled. “Now that would be scary. I hate to see women cry.”
“Thanks again,” she told him.
“No problem, Hayley.”
Chris waited until she got inside her little blue house and locked the door. Hayley leaned against it and closed her eyes. She needed a bath. And to not think about the blond. Or being Chris Sullivan’s house mouse, fake or otherwise. She suspected only one of those was a sure thing.
Chapter 7
Chris sat bolt upright in bed, woken by the shrill screaming, which didn't stop. He yanked open the nightstand drawer, grabbed his .44 caliber Desert Eagle and launched himself out of bed. In three strides he was down the hall, in another two he'd thrown open his own front door. He bounded down the steps of the front porch, crossed the lawn and took Hayley's steps two at a time. Not having stopped for keys, he planted his bare foot right next to the doorknob. The wood of the frame splintered and the door exploded inward.
He scanned the living area and finding it secure, rounded the corner and entered the darkened hallway, gun up, sweeping the dark corners. The screaming had subsided but he could hear her crying through the door. He twisted the knob of Hayley's bedroom door. When it didn't give, he slammed his shoulder into it. The door only moved a scant inch.
"What the fuck?" he muttered and slammed into the door again. "Hayley! Hayley open this door!" he shouted.
The crying stopped and he hit the door a third time as hard as he could. He heard a crash on the other side and checked again but still couldn't get the god damn thing to open.
"Hayley, talk to me," he demanded. "What the fuck is going on? Are you alright? What's blocking the door?"
He heard a choking sob and then she answered, "Chris?"
"Yeah, honey. It's me. Are you alone? Are you alright? Get this god damn door open!"
"I- it's alright," she called, her voice cracking under the strain. "Everything's fine. It's okay."
"The hell it is. Get this door open," he ordered.
"I'm fine, really," she said, her voice regaining some of its composure. "Just...you can go. I'm okay. It was just a bad dream."
"Jesus Christ," he muttered to himself. "Open the door," he said more loudly.