Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Will you give me a ride, too?” She bites her bottom lip and steps closer. My nose perks up as her delicate fragrance hits me. Up close, she smells like jasmine and roses, and I’m instantly addicted.
“Hop into my truck while I hook up Sparkie.”
She laughs, a quick and unexpected burst of sound that catches me off guard, then makes a show of leaning into her car to grab her bag. When she gives her ass a little shake while humming to herself, I nearly come in my pants.
I can already see this one is going to give me a run for my money. And I couldn’t be happier.
She straightens up and gives me a little wink before walking over to my rig and sliding into the seat gracefully, adjusting her snug jeans with a gentle tug to keep them from rising too high. Her movements are casual, yet there's an effortless elegance to them, and I can't help but wonder if she's even aware of the magnetic effect she has on me.
I make my way back to connect the Fiat, feeling the gravel crunch under my boots with each step. Once the task is complete, I slide into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut with a satisfying thud. The air inside is warm and carries a faint scent of old leather and pine. She’s already busy adjusting the vent, her fingers deftly maneuvering it to redirect the cool air away from her face, which is slightly flushed from the sun.
"I'm not usually the damsel-in-distress type," she says after a pause, her voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. "Just FYI."
"Yeah, you seem more like the 'set the village on fire' type," I reply, my gaze fixed on the long, winding road ahead. The sun beats down mercilessly, casting ripples of heat across the asphalt. "What brings you out to this little slice of Texas hell?" The landscape stretches endlessly, a vast expanse of dry earth and scrubby plants, with the distant horizon shimmering in the afternoon heat.
She pauses, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "I had a job lined up on a cruise ship, but I don’t think I’ll make it to Galveston before they depart," she admits, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I fucking lie.
In truth, I’m not sorry at all that she’s stuck in Silver Spoon Falls. In fact, I’m planning to do whatever it takes to make sure she never leaves.
CHAPTER 2
FRANKIE
I pace the length of Seth’s office like a caged ferret, only less dignified and with considerably worse posture. My beloved Fiat “Sparkie” is parked in shame outside, dripping coolant. I shoot it a death glare through the window, then resume my muttering.
The office itself is a glass-and-steel fishbowl perched above the garage like some Bond villain’s lair. Floor-to-ceiling windows, a big glass desk, all brushed metal, and expensive ergonomic chairs.
My phone vibrates in my palm, flashing a “LOW BATTERY” warning as if I needed any more existential chaos in my life. I shake it, which does nothing, and set it down on the desk with a little too much force. Somewhere below, the clanking of tools ricochets up the fancy modern metal stairs.
After flopping into the nearest chair, I drag my hands through my hair. It’s still damp from stress sweat and the overwhelming Texas humidity, and half my curls revolt instantly, escaping the claw clip to form an untamed halo around my head. My glasses slide down my nose, which is just what I need to complete the “unhinged librarian on edge” look.
I yank my bag onto my lap, dig through the debris, and pull out my laptop, rolling my eyes when I see the NOT TODAY, SATAN decal in cheerful bubble letters. The sticker is a lie. Today very much belongs to the devil, and I’m currently his favorite chew toy.
I pull up my bank app and see my checking account is low. My savings account is healthier, but less so every time I check it. There’s also my trust fund, sitting fat and obscene at the bottom of the list, its little “Available Balance” line basically mooning me. I refuse to touch it. I’d rather die or take a job on a cruise ship.
Drumming my fingers against the desk, I debate my options. I’m supposed to be on a cruise ship job by tomorrow. Galveston is still a few hours away, and Sparkie’s currently giving off “rapidly cooling corpse” vibes. I could rent a car, but that would hit my “not touching the trust fund” budget hard. I could also hitchhike, but with my luck, I’d end up dismembered in a drainage ditch, and my mother would absolutely use my tragic murder as campaign material. Not really, but close.
Option three is to wallow in defeat and book the cheapest hotel room I can find until Sparkie is patched up. I come up with the Silver Spoon Inn, which looks decent and is mostly affordable.