Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
All of it pours out at the end of Cris’s driveway in my broken wheelchair.
I put my good hand over my face, pretty sure things can’t get any worse.
That’s when the first caw sounds from somewhere overhead…
At first, I think it’s just random bird noise, but then it comes again, closer this time. So close, I flinch and drop my hand just as the most massive crow I’ve ever seen bobs down onto the pavement in front of me.
I rear back in my chair, tears cutting off with a gasp. “What the—”
It caws again, an aggressive, rattling sound, and swaggers closer, like a little bird thug asking if I want to rumble.
“No, I don’t,” I say, voice still thick from crying. “Go away. Shoo. Shoo!”
But it doesn’t shoo. It launches itself into the air, then flies down at my head.
“No! Stop! Leave me alone!” I throw up my good arm, shielding my face, only to bleat in terror as its wings brush my fingers.
What the hell is going on here?
Since when do crows attack people?
Why is the world such absolute garbage these days?
“Stop! Stop, I swear to God,” I cry out, swatting the air as the bird continues to circle, cawing abuse overheard. I’m about to scream bloody murder—or “fire, help fire!” since I heard more people will help if they think you’re on fire, than if they think you’re being attacked—when a male voice booms from the darkness.
“Enough, Edgar! Stop it right now. Leave her alone, you bully.”
I jerk my gaze to my left to see a broad-shouldered man crossing the now illuminated front lawn next door. The crow—Edgar?—plops back onto the sidewalk a few feet away with a sassy croak.
As the man reaches the fence, he points a stern finger at the winged menace, “I mean it, you little jerk. Or I’ll tell Maybelline you’re sneaking out at night again, and you know she won’t be happy. You won’t be getting any walnut treats from me either if you don’t shape up. Now, get on home, you bad bird.”
The crow makes a grumbling noise that makes it sound like he understood every word the man just said, then takes to the air, gliding across the cul-de-sac to disappear behind the roof of the darkened house next door.
“Are you okay?” the man asks.
He’s on the sidewalk now, moving toward me. As he steps into the light, it becomes clear that he’s not just tall and built, he’s crazy good-looking. From his sandy brown hair to his sparkly blue eyes to that jawline a comic book hero would kill for, he’s yummy enough that I’m instantly flustered.
And a little embarrassed that I’m currently wearing flamingo pajamas and a tiara and can’t remember the last time I washed my hair.
I reach up, deciding I can at least take care of one of these things. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry to bother you.” I wince as one of the hairpins sticks, but finally manage to dislodge it and drop the tiara into my lap.
“You weren’t bothering me. But that’s probably a good idea,” he says, motioning to the tiara. “I think Edgar’s gone for the night, but he’s a madman for anything shiny. I’m sure that’s what he was after.”
My eyes go wide. “Seriously?”
He stops in front of my wheelchair. “That’s my best guest. He isn’t a bad guy, just greedy for sparkly things. Now, what can I do to help?”
I shake my head, still a little stunned that I was nearly mugged by a crow. “Um, I… Well, I’m staying with Cristina. She went out to get ice cream, but then Barnaby ran away before I could stop him, and I was trying to get him back inside. But I think I broke my wheelchair when I slammed on the brakes to keep from rolling into the street. Barnaby’s her dog. I’m Clover.”
“I know Barnaby.” He crouches down beside my wheelchair, giving the wheel a quick glance before lifting those dazzling blue eyes to mine. “Nice to meet you, Clover. I’m Dean, and your chair is definitely broken. Can I offer you a lift inside?”
“A lift? In what?” I ask, too busy being distracted by the sexy dimple by his also very sexy mouth to connect the dots right away.
He grins harder, exhaling a laugh. “I could carry you. That’s what I meant. This wheelchair isn’t rolling anywhere until that wheel’s fixed, so…” His smile fades. “I promise, I’ll be very respectful and very careful.” He glances down at my plastered-up body. “Looks like you’ve really been through it.”
I nod. “Yeah. Car accident.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, the empathy in his gaze making me believe it.
Hot and kind…
Damn. The chances of me not catching a serious crush are pretty much out the window at this point.
And then he rumbles in a husky voice that has me tingling all over, “Think you can put the arm in the cast around my neck? Pretty sure I can manage the rest without any help.”