Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Well, good. I like Rosie. Hell, everyone likes Rosie. Speaking of, did you send in for some kind of forensics?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Oh, well, I got an email from Penny Rider in DC that they’re sending it out by courier and it’ll be here this afternoon.”
“Well, fuck, that was fast. I only sent it in a few days ago.”
“What’s this all about? Somethin’s going on with Rosie, obviously. Because Penny attached a copy of your request so I read it. Sorry to pry, but blame Penny for that. If she didn’t want me to read it, then it shouldn’t have landed in my inbox.”
“She probably thought it was Edge business. But whatever, I don’t care if you know. Rosie’s been gettin’ weird letters and this man who is sending the letters claims to be Cross’s father.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. I sent the letters into forensics before she figured out who it was, so it’s probably all moot now, but whatever. All information is good information.”
“She’s got herself a stalker?” Collin looks worried. “Is it gonna turn serious?”
I shrug. “Dunno. Maybe, maybe not. But I got it all under control now, so don’t worry.” Then I grin. “Because I’m not worried.”
Collin nods. “OK. Well, you have a good lunch date.” Then he chuckles and takes off in the direction of Ryan’s house, which also acts as Edge Security’s main office.
“Roger that, Sarge. I will.”
Collin shoots me a dirty look over his shoulder. He hates being called Sarge. But doesn’t stop and start a fight.
Then I head over towards the kennel to keep myself busy until my big date at noon.
When I walk into the Bishop Busybody I nearly lose my breath at the sight of Rosie Harlow. She’s wearing that same dress I first saw her in last week. It’s pink, and cream, and has little flowers all over it. There seem to be many layers, and this is what’s so sexy about it.
Also the whole reason I’m here.
Well, maybe not the whole reason, but it’s a good part of it.
“Amon?” Rosie’s face is flushed and she seems very surprised to see me. “What are you doin’ here?” She starts hurriedly shuffling papers. Obviously, she’s been printing because there’s a little smudge of ink on her nose.
“Surprise.”
Her eyebrows go up. “We’re goin’ to lunch or something?”
“Well, we can certainly do that. But I’m really just here to walk you home.” My eyes might—involuntarily, of course—slide down her body and come back up.
She’s grinnin’ now. “You want to walk me home?” She’s cocking an eyebrow as well, which implies she gets my meaning.
“I most certainly do. I mean, you can’t be walking around unescorted. What are your plans for this afternoon?”
“Well”—she looks down at her mess of papers on the table, then starts sorting them—“I have to go to the copy shop and print off this week’s edition, then come back here and stuff some into these envelopes and then take the rest of them with me for the Revival inserts.”
I take Rosie’s hand and do a little bow here. “Allow me to escort you to the print shop then, good lady.” Then bring her hand up to my mouth—lookin’ straight into those thunderstorm eyes of hers as my lips graze across her knuckles.
She gets all flustered at my flirting and goes red. “All right,” she says. Which isn’t much of a verbal response to my gesture, but I know I’m really startin’ to get a hold of her heart and it’s overwhelming her a bit. Getting her all flustered and shit.
So I say, “Come on then. To the printer we go.”
Rosie makes a mad grab at all her paperwork on the table and stuffs it into a leather messenger bag. Then, when I hold the crook of my arm out for her, she latches on to me and we leave to run errands as a team.
It is not a quick thing to print and stuff seventy-three envelopes. Rosie and I do this and it goes by fast because we have a nice, easy conversation while we work. Finally, everything is done and it’s time to leave.
I take her messenger bag stuffed with this week’s edition of the Busybody and once outside, I wait for her to lock up and then offer her my arm when she turns.
“Amon.” She huffs a little. But she’s smiling too, so it’s the good kind. “You don’t have to do this, ya know.”
“Do what?” I lead her down the front walk and open the gate.
“Court me this… hard, I guess. I mean, you’re really pullin’ out all the stops. A girl could get used to this, ya know.”
We scoot through the gate and turn right towards Goosebeak Alley. “You mean like… if I do this now, during our courting, then when I stop, after we settle down, you’re gonna resent me?”