Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Oh yeah,” she says as we head into the dining room. “He was born in these mountains and now he protects them. Well, he was born in the hospital but you know what I mean.”
I’m keeping one eye on his cop car and I walk right into an empty table, slamming it with my thigh. Ow! I’ve been distracted all day. I can’t stop thinking of him.
The intense way he was looking at me… God, it still gives me shivers.
His big strong hand wrapped around my wrist… His delicious masculine smell… I want more…
We deliver the plates and then head back to the server area. I take the long way through the quiet restaurant, swinging by the large window that gives the best view of Emmanuel’s cop car. It’s dark out now and the street is pretty empty. I don’t think there’s a lot of crime to worry about on a Monday night in the Greene Mountains.
If Emmanuel wasn’t looking out for me, he’d probably be napping in his car somewhere or looking at his phone. Actually, that’s what I would be doing. He’d probably be doing a thousand push-ups.
His car is empty. Damn it. I need my hot mountain man fix!
I’m trying to remember every detail of his tattooed arms as I walk into the back, looking for something to do. I’m going crazy here. I keep thinking of him in that tank top and getting turned on.
I need something that’s the opposite of sexy.
The garbage…
I pull out the bag and tie it into a knot, but even that doesn’t work. I’m back to thinking about that massive chest and wondering what it would feel like to drag my fingertips down it as I head to the back door. Nothing is working.
I’m crushing hard on this man.
“I’m bringing the garbage out,” I call out to Jenny who is crouched down and hiding behind the counter, absorbed into her phone. She gives me a thumbs up.
I step out through the back door and take a deep breath of the crisp night air. I’ll never get used to the feeling of this cool mountain air filling my lungs. It’s electrifying.
I smile as I walk over to the garbage bin, trying not to drag the heavy bag on the ground.
“Where’s our dog?”
I gasp as Angelo’s goon steps out of the shadows like a horror movie villain. I know this guy. Well, I recognize him anyway. He was always speeding into the chop shop with a different car each time, and then walking out all wiry and twitchy.
His face is thin, all sharp angles and bad choices. Greasy hair slicked-back like he’s trying to look cool, but it just makes him look dirty. His eyes are sunken and his movements are wild and jittery like he either just had a fix or is desperate for his next one.
I swallow hard when I spot the knife in his hand, this cool mountain air suddenly feeling razor sharp in my throat.
My legs get a little weak and wobbly as I stare at the dull blade. I know he won’t hesitate to use it. I’m nothing to him.
“I said,” he growls, stepping closer, “where’s our dog?”
I drop the garbage bag and stumble back. “No,” I whisper, not quite believing this is happening. “No, no, no.”
My heart is going wild in my chest, and for a second, all I can think is: Is this seriously how I die? Beside a dumpster next to a garbage bag full of soggy onion rings?
“Lucy,” he growls, his right eye twitching. “Where’s Cutter?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, still backing away. My back hits the dumpster and I gasp.
He moves in… So fast, it’s a blur, pinning me in with his long scrawny arms.
I wince as his fowl breath washes down on my face, the knife only a few inches from my cheek.
“You’re going to make me kill you over that mutt?”
I try to speak, try to explain, but the only thing that comes out is a sad pathetic whimper.
“Maybe if I start cutting, you’ll remember where that damn dog is.”
“Hey,” a deep manly voice says, cutting through the crisp air. “Get the fuck off her.”
His twitchy little eyes open in panic as a big strong hand lands on his shoulder with a thump.
And just like that, the goon flies off me and sails back a good ten feet before crashing onto the pavement. His knife skids away on the ground.
My heart races as I look up at Emmanuel standing there in his police uniform looking like a prayer come true. He looks me up and down quickly, those dark sexy eyes brimming with possession, protection, and complete control.
He came out of nowhere just like Cutter did when he saved me. Silent. Fast. Deadly.
It seems that I have two protectors in my life now.