Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“All right, finish up, babe. Let’s eat before it’s cold.” His lips touch mine then the top of my head before his arms loosen. I study him for a moment before I let him go and finish making our plates while he watches, leaning against the counter and drinking his beer.
***
Laying sprawled out on top of him, three hours and two servings of casserole and a slice of chocolate pie later, I stare blindly at the TV, trying not to think about what he meant when he said he would deal with Dr. Hofstadter personally, and failing miserably.
“Thanks for dinner, baby.” His words whisper across the top of my hair, and I lift my head off his chest to look at him.
“You’re welcome.” I run my fingers across his bearded jaw.
“It was the shit, even if it was tater tots.” He grins.
Laughing, I say, “Thank you. But I kinda guessed that when you finished off three servings.”
Smiling, his fingers run along my cheek then his voice drops. “Stop overthinking what I said earlier.”
“Are you a mind reader?”
“No, I just know you and that brain of yours.” He taps my temple with his index finger.
“Whatever,” I mutter, annoyed that he can read me just as easily as my sister can. Dropping my temple back to his chest, I look at the TV.
“Babe,” he calls, wrapping his fingers around my ear and sliding them around my lower jaw, forcing me to look at him again. “It will be okay.” Studying the soft look in his eyes, I believe him. “Promise.” He drags me up his body with his hands under my arms then puts pressure on the back of my head until our mouths touch. “You believe me?” he asks, against my mouth, and my eyes close.
“I believe you,” I whisper, knowing that even if it’s not okay, he will do everything he can to make it all right for me. And on that thought, I press my mouth to his then curl myself deeper into his chest, letting worry from earlier wash clean away.
Chapter 8
Harlen
WATCHING HARMONY HEAD down the sidewalk toward the double doors that will lead her into the hospital, I feel my scalp prickle. I look to the left and feel my jaw clench when I see the guy I spotted earlier with his eyes on Harmony. I clocked him sitting in his car when we pulled up, noted his brand new black Mercedes SUV is parked in one of the spots reserved for doctors. I also noted, even with the distance between us, his eyes are locked on Harmony and me through his windshield. Seeing that, I knew who he was without needing confirmation. I also knew that him realizing the fact that Harmony had a man, didn’t sit real well with him.
Locking my eyes with his, I lift my chin, watching his chin shoot back and his eyes narrow. Fuck but he’s gonna be a problem. Putting her car in drive, I take off toward the hospital exit and head across town to the shop. As soon as I arrive, I pull her car up and park in the lot out front, so I can fix her taillight at some point today.
I shut down the engine and get out, slamming the door and pulling my cell out of my back pocket. Finding a number I never thought I’d call, I hit send and press my phone to my ear, listening to it ring two times.
“Yo,” Nico answers, and my jaw clenches.
Fuck, I don’t want to talk to him, but I have no choice.
“You got time to meet me this evening?”
“Is Harmony okay?” he asks, and I wrap my hand around the back of my neck, thinking about the way she woke me this morning and the kiss she left me with when I dropped her off. She’s definitely okay, but I want to keep her that way.
“She’s fine.”
“Where do you want to meet?” he asks after a moment of silence, and I stare down at my boots.
“Skitter’s, at six.”
“See you then.” He disconnects and I shove my phone back into my pocket. Going into the garage, I pull a pair of coveralls on over my jeans and tee then get to work on an engine I’ve been rebuilding for the last two weeks.
***
Later that evening, I tag my cell off the top of my toolbox, pull up Harmony’s number in my phone, and put it to my ear as I head out the open bay door and away from the loud noise in the shop.
“Hey, honey,” she answers after the fourth ring, and I feel a smile twitch my lips. I never thought I’d like a woman calling me honey, but coming from Harmony, in her soft, sweet voice, I not only like it; I fucking love it.