Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Also got David coming up. He can’t get to it until next week, but he’s installing motion sensor lights on your house. Front and side doors, all corners. No one will get close at night without you knowin’ they’re there. I’ll deal with Mrs. Matthews.”
I needed to get a handle on this mostly one-sided conversation, pronto.
“Okay, listen—”
He pushed away from my truck, stating, “Nothin’ to listen to. This isn’t a discussion. The decisions are made.”
Oh, hell no.
He started to make a move.
But I planted a hand in his chest and shoved him back into my truck.
Yes, I knew he let me.
No, at that point, I didn’t care.
“Listen, Mr. Hutchison, even if you were that man they saw coming or going, you don’t factor into my life or my decisions. You certainly don’t get to make my decisions.” He was staring down at my hand on him, so I took that hand away but didn’t get out of his space. “Though, glad I got the chance to say thanks for your sweet note. I was good with the multiple orgasms, but that was icing on the cake.”
The sarcasm laced heavily into my last two statements wasn’t lost on him, I knew by the way his eyes thinned.
And then he stated, “I’m the president of the board here at Stony Bluff.”
And…God.
My luck?
The worst.
Panic hit me that he might interfere with Tonks and Moxie.
“Don’t you dare scuttle my apps,” I hissed.
He got toe to toe with me. I wasn’t short, but he was six inches taller than me, and in that moment, intimidating as all get out.
“Hear me, woman,” he growled. “I’ve been inside you. The very next day I get a call from you tellin’ me you got an issue. Harry confirms that issue is a possible issue. I’m doin’ something about it.”
“I had no idea who you were when I called, and if I did, I wouldn’t have made that call.”
“I know you didn’t,” he returned. “But I sure as fuck knew who you were, and you did call me. So this shit is gonna get sorted.”
“I—”
“How often do you look over your shoulder when you’re in your own fuckin’ home?”
My teeth clacked audibly, I shut my mouth so fast.
“Right,” he whispered scarily. “Again, this shit is gonna get sorted.”
“No offense, but I don’t want your dog. I want Tonks.”
“Fine,” he bit out. “Then you’ll get Tonks, and my training, three times a week. Go to the feedstore so you can be ready for a pickup tomorrow. Their shit is the best quality, and the cheapest.”
“I already researched that, Heir Hutchison,” I snapped. “A grouchy dog trainer gave me the idea.”
He dipped his head so his nose nearly brushed mine.
“Enough with that shit. I’m not grouchy,” he grouched.
“You’re entirely un-self-aware if you believe that,” I fired back.
He scowled at me.
I glared at him.
This went on awhile.
I caved first, because, seriously, the dude was intimidating.
I mean, how could this man sing such beautiful, melancholy songs?
Even if I gave up our staring contest first, I did it snarkily.
“Can I get to my truck?”
“It’s Thursday. You got tomorrow and Saturday to get Tonks settled. Sunday, I’ll be at your place at one to start training.”
“Tonks and I might not be there,” I retorted.
“Then wherever you are, you better get your ass home, Mabel. Because I got special forces training, and if you’re not there, I’ll find you and drag your ass home.”
He had special forces training?
I didn’t go after that.
“Are you always this much of a dick?” I demanded.
He stepped away from me but didn’t lose eye contact.
“Nope,” he said casually. “It only comes out when I got a woman on my hands with more sass than sense.”
Oh my God!
He was the worst!
“Seems we’re even, since the sass only comes out in me when I’m dealing with a guy whose mostly a dick, and on top of that, doesn’t have the good sense not to write ‘thanks’ on a Post-it to a one-night stand who already knew she was a one-night stand and was all the way down with that, but you made her feel like a whore.”
With that, I yanked open my truck door, it screamed in agony (don’t worry, it always did that).
I climbed in, slammed the door, buckled up, and the entire time I started up, I glared at him where he now stood on the sidewalk by my front fender.
Necessarily, I looked where I was going when I reversed out.
And I wasn’t proud of it, but I flipped him the bird before I took off.
Sadly, this didn’t make him either spontaneously combust, or rush to my window to offer his abject apologies.
He just shook his head like I was a sassy woman he wasn’t a big fan of before he dropped it to look at his boots.
I was on CR 10 before I muttered to myself, “Crap, what did those fanatics get me into?”