Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
He had a sleeve, and it was a completely random array of tattoos. There was a turtle and a hummingbird. Then there was a mermaid skeleton looking chick, followed by a cherry blossom that weaved in between the tattoos and filling in the holes that the other tattoos left open.
He even had a tattoo of a clock on his hand, and the hands of the clock were centered on his middle finger. Fingers in which were curled around a beer, which he brought up to his lip moments later and sipped from.
I swallowed and watched his throat muscles work.
Oh, holy fuck.
Then he turned, feeling my gaze on him, and locked eyes with me.
I swallowed and immediately looked away, my eyes wide and surprised.
“What’s that look for?” Janie asked, juggling her infant baby in one arm, and trying to hold her boob with the other while also not flashing the world her nipple. It’d be just her luck to get on the Jumbotron the same instant she flashed her tit. “Am I showing my boob to everyone?”
I shook my head and lifted the blanket I was holding up even higher. “No. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”
Well, I didn’t really lie. I did know him. Sort of. Knew of him was really the better term.
“I swear I hate breastfeeding so much. It sucks,” she said.
“Then don’t do it anymore,” I shot back. “Nobody will condemn you for not doing it.”
She sighed and sat back when she finally got the beast latched on.
“I would if my family wasn’t so pro-breastfeeding. Seriously, all my aunts did it. Shiloh did it with my sister. It’s like I have to. They’re all so excited that I am. It’s like this secret boob cult that I’ve been indoctrinated into. I feel like they’re going to start making me do stuff that I don’t want to do. Like feed her on national television without a cover. Once I do whatever public boob flashing breastfeeding activity that they have planned, I won’t be surprised if I have to get a boob tattoo with teardrops of milk for each kid I’ve breastfed.”
I blinked.
“You’re fucking nuts,” I informed her.
Janie sighed.
“If you want to formula feed, do it. Nobody is going to bitch about it. And if they do, I’ll fuck them up,” I told her.
Janie looked at me and burst out laughing.
I shrugged.
Ok, so I was on the small side, but I was pretty freakin’ scrappy when I needed to be.
Like a raccoon. Or one of those little organ monkeys.
Or maybe like a skunk.
Nobody went near a skunk. Nobody.
“I will,” I told her, my arms starting to shake. “Can I put this down yet?”
She purses her lips, then nodded.
I sighed as I dropped the blanket over her and the baby, who immediately took offense to being covered up and wrenched her head to the side.
Janie grimaced. “Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t you get your husband to hold it up for you?” I asked as I picked the blanket back up, then sent a glare in Rafe’s direction, who was busy talking to the man that I was trying really hard not to stare at. Rafe turned his head and answered my question, despite his being in the midst of a full-blown conversation with the other man. Parker.
His name made me shiver.
“Because my wife doesn’t like the way I do it. Apparently, I do it differently than you do, and she likes the way you hold the blanket better,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. “Like I would want my woman’s boob exposed to the entire fucking world. But whatever.”
I bit my lip to keep the laughter at bay. “There was this one time when we were seniors in high school…”
“Kayla, shut the fuck up,” Janie ordered, her eyes narrowing.
I pinched my lips closed as laughter twinkled in my eyes. She narrowed hers even more on me.
“I will fuck you up,” she promised.
I looked away, even though Rafe’s eyes were curious and hopeful that I’d continue.
“Come on,” Rafe begged. “I really want to know.”
“Rafael Luis, if you value your life at all, you’ll drop it,” Janie snarled.
I bit my lip and returned my eyes to the game when Sterling, the man that most of us were here to see, was announced as ‘on deck.’
“That Furious George is huge,” Janie said as she fidgeted to find a better position.
I agreed. He was huge.
And actually, kind of nice. I wasn’t sure why he was called Furious George at all.
I’d even seen him give his bat to a little boy a few nights ago when I was watching the game at Loki’s house.
My two weeks with Loki as an apprentice were up, and I would not be returning.
Though it had been enlightening, I would not be able to hack being a police officer.