Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“He is.” I wasn’t going to deny it. My parents knew. So did Mrs. L. I was twenty-seven, not eighteen, and I had no reason to sneak around. I also wasn’t going to give him any other details. It was none of his business.
“Did you think about what I offered, that I’d buy your business from you?” I asked, switching topics.
He laughed. “Yeah, I thought about it. The idea’s good, so I asked around. Got a good deal from a guy in Missoula.”
My mouth fell open, and my stomach clenched up tight. “You talked to a guy in Missoula? You didn’t even wait to see what I’d offer. It could be more money.” You idiot, I wanted to add, but that wasn’t going to help anything.
He shrugged… again. God, he was annoying! “Fine. Give me your figure, and I’ll consider.”
I spun on my heel and went out the front door. The summer sun was high in the sky, and I took a breath of the fresh air. Felt the pull to escape into the mountains, away from dicks like Brandon. Away from the emptiness of losing Buck. Of seeing my parents broken over his loss. Of… everything.
“You okay?”
I turned. Taft was walking my way down the sidewalk. He wore running shorts and a plain white t-shirt. Sweat made his blond hair damp and his body… glisten. “Did you run here from the Ledger place?”
He lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. I didn’t even know a twelve-pack was possible other than in romance novels.
“It’s only five miles.”
Ford had told me about his injury, but other than the jagged scar on the outside of his left knee, I wouldn’t have known he’d been hurt.
“Right. You’ll run back, too, of course. I mean, it’ll only be ten miles total. You single, Taft?”
His pale brows winged up. “I like my balls intact, Indi.”
I frowned then realized what he meant. “Not me. I mean, you’re… hot and all.” Understatement of the year. “But I’ll stick with Ford. I meant the other ladies in Sparks.”
He shrugged. “While the others are gone, the only women I’m looking at these days are you and Gram.”
I shook my head. “Fine, fine. I don’t have to be a baby SEAL to know evasive techniques.”
He grinned, then his smile slipped. A head tip toward the guide shop came before he said, “Need me to kill him for you? It’d be fun.”
“What is it with you guys wanting to kill people?”
“We don’t do it all that often anymore. These days we specialize in assholes who fuck with women.”
For some reason, it felt oddly reassuring to know I had a whole team of overprotective men watching out for me.
“That’s oddly sweet of you, but killing Brandon’s not necessary.”
He took a step closer. “Scaring the shit out of him would be fun too. Haven’t done any late-night infiltration and interrogation in a while.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
If Taft or any of the other guys messed with Brandon in my defense, there was no way he was going to sell to me. And if he did, I didn’t want him to do it because they’d put his balls in a vise or threatened to remove his fingernails with pliers.
I should just quit and never come back. Walk down the sidewalk and keep on going. But I had a mortgage to pay. Bills. Then I thought of Ford, of what he’d said.
That I could open my own place. I practically ran the business for Brandon, no matter what he thought. I’d still need to buy equipment, but that might be easier than dealing with Brandon. For now, I wasn’t going back in the shop. Ford had offered to make Brandon disappear. If he were in town, I might actually take him up on it.
That meant I needed a break. To work off this anger. Unfortunately, the best way I knew to do that was with Ford and his talented dick.
Chapter
Thirteen
FORD
* * *
It was two in the morning, and Indi was tucked into bed. Asleep. I stood outside her house, noting the lights were off. The neighborhood was quiet. I should leave her be, come by in the morning, but I couldn’t.
We’d been gone a week, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to be with her. To be in her.
I pulled out my cell and sent her a text that I was outside and coming in. As far as I knew, she didn’t have a gun, but the last thing I wanted to do was scare the shit out of her. Especially after the break-in.
I palmed the key Kennedy had given me and slid it into the new lock. It opened easily. There were no beeps on the security system—a quick indication for burglars that there was an alarm—and typed in the code. No doubt Kennedy had just received an alert about the door opening, which he knew was me from the cameras outside.