Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“I don’t give a single fuck why you set the grass on fire, Marian. I care that you set the grass on fire!” he roared.
Why was he better-looking when he was mad? And why did my dick seem to like an angry man so much? Maybe I had a temper kink. Was that a thing?
“But it’s my grass,” I said stupidly. “And it’s no longer on fire. I put it out. As you can see.”
I gestured at the pathetic area of burned pine needles and brush, wincing a little when I saw just how big it looked from here, maybe five feet long and a couple of inches wide.
“Why in the world would you light sparklers next to the underbrush? Why not do it out there in the open where the worst thing that could happen was a spark falling on fresh, green grass?” He approached the burned area and squatted down, which pulled his pants taut over his muscular ass and made my brain blink out and fizz a little.
“Huh?”
“Are you even listening?”
I cleared my throat and shuffled my feet. “Yeah, and I’m hearing a lot of ‘Looks like you did a great job putting out the fire, Alex. Good job!’ At least… that’s my interpretation of your grumbles. Did I get it right?”
He reached out with a nearby stick and poked at the charred remains of the forest floor. “Why are there drag marks?”
Because there may have been a shrieking, shuffling, panic-induced fire dance involved while I struggled to stomp the flames out?
“Dunno,” I said, shrugging for emphasis. “I guess sometimes fire detritus looks like that.”
Kincaid glared at me over his shoulder. “Yes, it does. When someone drags a body through it.”
My voice reached an octave reserved for devout fans of Jesus and Taylor Swift. “I didn’t drag a body through it!”
He sighed and stood up, running his own boot through it to make sure any embers were dispersed. I made an absurd noise of see?! And gestured wildly to his own action.
“Drag marks!” I added. “You did the same thing.”
He deployed his small handheld extinguisher and sprayed the area down. “Why are you out here alone?”
I glanced at him in the odd, shadowy light coming from his headlights. It was late; I’d had to wait a long time for it to get dark enough for my project.
As much as I couldn’t stand the man, I also couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of his uniform shirt straining around his muscular chest. I cleared my throat to disguise the large swallow of drool. “Why are you still in your uniform? It’s eleven at night.”
He moved back to his vehicle and put the extinguisher away. I found myself following him like a puppy.
“Suspected gas leak out by Haymaker Loop,” he muttered.
I leaned a hip against his car and crossed my arms. “And you were still on duty?”
He closed his eyes and inhaled as if praying for patience. “I was buying groceries after work when the call came in. The homeowner requested me specifically. Said she needed to talk to me about the conduct of one of my crew on a previous call.”
I barked out a laugh. “Oh my god, you were Kitsoned!”
He closed the hatch and moved closer, standing close enough for me to remember how much taller he was. “Explain,” he said with narrowed eyes.
“Maureen Kitson will flick her housecoat at any man in uniform around here. Ten bucks says Cody McMasters threw you under the bus. Mrs. Kitson spent eight months trying to seduce him until he finally figured out how to drop a casual mention of having a contagious and chronic STI. Even that didn’t work until he described his… lesions… in gory detail.”
Kincaid looked put upon. “And then?”
“And then she moved her attention to the sheriff, only he spun a tale about a long-lost love he’s never been able to get over. And then it was Marco’s turn, back before he moved over to SERA…”
“I’m going to kill McMasters,” he grumbled. “Spent two hours thinking she was just a close talker before she asked me to triple-check the gas smell in her bed.”
I couldn’t hold back the shout of laughter. “Oh my god, tell me you sniffed her sheets! Please tell me you got into that woman’s bed and humored her.”
He shot me an annoyed look, but I could see the barest hint of a smile at the edge of his mouth. “Maybe I would have, if I hadn’t already discovered she doesn’t have natural gas or propane service to her house.”
My laughter nearly stole my breath, and tears leaked out of my eyes. “No gas, and she called in a gas leak? What the fuck caused you to stay for two hours?”
“While she didn’t have a gas leak, she absolutely did have three smoke detectors wildly out of date. Which she apparently knew since she’d already bought the replacements.”