Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Bet.” Apollo sounded confident.
I wasn’t confident, though.
But, likely that was because I’d become a bit obsessed with the woman, and I didn’t trust her safety to anyone. Not her brother. Not Apollo. Not Denver. Not even herself.
Maybe I’d do the finding of this serial killer asshole.
I mean, after all, it would take a stalker to find a stalker, right?
Ten
I hope that when karma fucks you, you scream my name.
—Bernice’s secret thoughts
Bernice
My job at the doctor’s office in town started off with a bang.
The snow had lasted all of twelve hours.
By nine in the morning the next day, the roads were clear, and I was driving to work.
I did notice, however, that I had a stalker who was openly keeping an eye on me.
Hux watched me get ready for work through my open window.
He didn’t bother to hide that he was watching.
I didn’t seem to care that he was watching, either.
However, when my brother came over and started doing the same thing from his truck parked at the curb outside my office later on that day, I started to feel a little suffocated.
The sense of someone watching my every move started to come back, and the old fear started to take root.
By lunchtime, I was done with my brother doing the stalking.
I marched down the walk toward his truck and crossed my arms, glaring at him.
He rolled his window down, looking sheepish. “What?”
“Go home,” I ordered.
He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up a finger. “Your own club brothers and Apollo said that this would be okay. Trust them. I’m fine.”
He sighed. “I don’t like this. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
I rolled my eyes. “How about finding out that you’re alive months after you died?”
He closed his mouth.
A door slammed shut, and I turned to find Hux walking toward us with a paper sack under his arm.
“Hux,” Creed said. “What are you doing here?”
Hux held up the sack and said, “Eating lunch with your sister.”
Creed blinked.
I blinked along with him.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.
Surely, I hadn’t heard him correctly.
He was having lunch with me?
“It’s cold, let’s go inside,” he urged, catching my hand and leading me back to the front of the doctor’s office.
I looked over my shoulder at Creed to see him looking as stunned as I felt.
But Hux didn’t stop pulling me with him until I was safely back inside out of the cold.
“Um,” I said. “What did you bring for lunch?”
I didn’t question him any further, because I was not a stupid girl.
The alpha male badass that I’d been staring at for months was now bringing me lunch. I’d read enough romance novels to know that you didn’t turn down this kind of opportunity.
I may live in my books, and read to escape, and enjoy smut more than actual stories, but I was not a stupid woman.
This was the golden opportunity I never thought I would have.
Hux was talking to me.
Hux was bringing me lunch.
Hux was the dream guy everyone wanted.
I was going to hold on with both hands and never let go.
“Chicken-fried steak, baked potato soup, and salad with ranch. No tomatoes.”
I blinked. “How did you know that I liked no tomatoes on my salads?”
“The same way that I knew that you left your lunch at home,” he answered. “I’m exceptionally observant when it comes to you.”
He led the way into the breakroom, letting me know that he’d been there before.
He jerked his chin up at Odin, who was on a phone call with a pharmacy, and sat, pulling out containers filled with food.
“I love baked potato soup,” I admitted. “But I never brought it to lunch.”
Which was where I assumed he knew what I liked and didn’t like from. I was practically working right beside him for months. It wouldn’t be something super hard to find out.
His mom gave me enough shit about not eating my vegetables. I was sure that she shared that I hated the food she catered for the shop.
I was a meat, potatoes, and bread girl. And if there was a salad, it damn well better be smothered in ranch and cheese.
When he opened up the boxes, I found that the salad was, indeed, smothered in ranch.
And so much cheese.
Extra cheese on top of more cheese.
Just the way that I liked it.
The chicken-fried steak also had the gravy on the side.
“You ordered it at Hopps once,” he said. “I was at the bar when you came in to place the order.”
I felt his stare on me as I opened up all the boxes and started to dig in.
I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I was once a starving child.
Deep down inside, I would probably always be that starving child.
I never, ever wasted food. I always took that food home if I couldn’t finish it, but most of the time I stuffed myself to the absolute brim until I was miserably full.