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)
They had not.
He would have gone up to Stony bluff, but the camera he ordered yesterday morning to be overnighted from a camera shop in Spokane wouldn’t be there until tomorrow.
And he’d spent it in a short text conversation with Mabel.
Now, he had his guitar in his back cab and his eyes on the darkness of the south wood at Mabel’s place, scanning as he swung in at the front of her house.
The door opened before he could even put his hand on his own to get out and collect her, and he stilled completely as he watched her walk out.
She was wearing a dress.
A long black dress with little flowers on it and a full skirt that went down to her ankles. It buttoned up the front, but those buttons didn’t start until mid-thigh, so as she walked, the skirt opened, showing she was wearing calf boots, along with exposing an eyeful of knee and the creamy skin of her thigh.
She had her ever-present scarf wrapped around her throat, her denim jacket on, the long strap of her tan leather bag crossed her torso, but although her hair was down—as usual—it was curled—not as usual.
And her makeup had been notched up from woman-on-the-go to woman-going-out.
His crotch got tight in his jeans.
Fucking hell.
She did that irresistible woman skip across the porch, down the steps and to the passenger side door, her skirt flowing out behind her, now giving him a show with both her legs.
She pulled herself in, plopped in the seat, her musky, flowery perfume filled his nostrils, she turned to him and breathed, “Hi,” through a smile.
This did not help the situation at his groin.
None of it did.
“Hey,” he replied, and fuck him, his voice was gruff.
“Good day?” she asked, thankfully seeming not to notice his tone.
“Yeah. You?”
She nodded even if her head was turned the other way so she could grab the seatbelt.
After he heard it click, he was about to put the truck into reverse, but he didn’t when her fingers curled around his forearm.
He felt her touch there like it was on his cock.
His plan was a good plan.
But it was a dangerous one.
He looked to her.
She took her hand from his arm. “Okay, I have something kinda awkward to tell you, so I want to get it out of the way before we take off.”
He felt his lats tighten, pulling his shoulders up.
“Those fucks mess with you again?” he demanded.
In her bright porch light, she appeared confused for a second, before she shook her head.
“No, nothing about that. I just…listen, you know I’m a girl.”
“Uh, yeah,” he grunted.
He knew that all too well.
Another of her bright smiles before it faded, and she said, “So, obviously, girls talk.”
Ah, hell.
She kept going.
“And I talked to Abigail today. And yeah, by talk, I mean gossiped. So you should know I know about Bree.”
His shoulders relaxed and he put the truck in reverse saying, “Everyone knows about Bree.”
“I just didn’t want to know with you, um…not knowing I know.”
She gave him that, put it out there right away, total honesty.
And he knew about her whole life from birth, and she didn’t know he knew.
He also wasn’t going to tell her.
Shit.
“Thanks, May,” he muttered after he hooked an arm around her seat to look behind them as he reversed, concentrating on what he was doing and unusually missing the shift of the feel of cab. “But Bree went all out not making it a secret.”
“I hate you went through that,” she said as he started them down her lane.
“It wasn’t much fun going through it.”
“Did she really text you a hundred times in a day?”
“Yup. And that didn’t happen on just one day.”
“Good God. Why didn’t you block her?”
“I did. But the messages still come in. You just don’t get them. If you unblock, you’ll see them all.”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “I didn’t know that.”
He swung a left on CR 10 and said nothing.
“Abigail says she comes into the store. Thus, I’ll now be wearing rubber bands on my wrists whenever I’m in the store, so I’ll snap them if she ever comes in when I’m there to remind me violence is not the answer.”
That almost made Hutch smile.
It didn’t, but he felt his lips quirk.
“She isn’t worth an assault charge,” he told her.
“I don’t know,” she replied, sounding half joking, half serious.
“Trust me, she isn’t,” he said to the half serious part.
“Did the restraining order work?”
“It was valid for six months. Saw the woman once, crossing Main when I was in my truck. Town that small, two years have passed, that’s all I’ve seen of her. Yeah, I think it worked.”
“Good,” she muttered. Then, “Listen, Abigail also said that Liam was all about the sanctuary this morning. I know you’re busy, but—”
“When and where and I’ll be there.”
“Saturday? Then everyone can come to mine and I’ll cook. And by everyone, that invitation is extended to you. Abigail thinks that if there’s a lot of activity at my place, comings and goings, my neighbors won’t see a single woman out in the boonies alone, but a single woman with a lot of friends who give a shit, and they won’t bother me anymore.”