Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I finally set Peach Lips into her privacy cave. It’s a small wire dog cage that I crafted with felt, wool, fabric, and paper mâché to look like a real cave. There’s even a sign on the front that’s all rustic and crooked with her name on it. The front opening is huge, allowing the door to swing open and closed, but further back, it’s dark and cozy in there. She has a plush cat bed, her travel food and water dish, and her heating pad that I can switch on and off. Inside, the walls are super soft and plush, and there are no wires showing that she could get something trapped in.
Some days, I wish I had a big, comfy cave to crawl into, but then again, I suppose I do, given that I live on a small bus.
Yeah, I’m doing the whole life in a van thing, but with a bus.
It makes travel easier.
“You okay, baby?” I ask, staring into the opening and petting Peach Lips’ head before I shut the door.
She starts to purr when I scratch behind her crooked ear. It’s her favorite spot. She’s on good medications, and I use as many natural products as I can. She’s a senior cat, but for a creature who admittedly looks so unhealthy, she’s actually not in the worst shape. She had some arthritis issues and some allergies in the past, and she can have a sensitive tummy, but other than that, she’s doing okay for a cat of her approximate fourteen years.
A shadow darkens my booth, and I look up, shutting the door as Peach Lips curls into a happy little cat ball.
“You,” I breathe before I can stop myself. My brain doesn’t usually have a habit of speaking first and thinking after, but this is a special scenario.
Mr. Hulking Beast Muscles Security Ghost Shadow Savior Dude is standing right in front of my booth.
He says nothing. Just hulking, scowling, and taking up all the space and oxygen in the place. You know, nothing I haven’t noticed over the past five days except that this time, he’s not in the shadows. He’s right here in front of me.
His glower makes my heart race. And not in a good way.
I stare. And stare. And stare too long. It’s hard not to stare when a man who looks like he does gets all up in your face after he’s saved your cat. He wears a scowl on his chiseled face that would appeal to approximately eighty percent of women because, apparently…lizard brain. I’m not entirely unaffected. I feel a quiver go through my lady bits, especially as my eyes trace the scar that extends from his ear, tracing haphazardly along his jaw. It almost wouldn’t be visible from the wrong angle, but I’m definitely at the right one to see it.
Despite his glower, his eyes are a soft brown velvet that looks like they’ll sparkle if this guy ever cracks a laugh once or twice in a lifetime. But I’m more than willing to bet that he doesn’t, at least not where anyone could ever see or hear.
And his body. Oh my god. On a scale of pass or smash, my ovaries are all, damn, that’s most definitely a smassssshhhhhhh.
“You’re here to…talk?” I stammer, my tongue as hot and fuzzy as some inappropriate areas of me are at this man’s almost indecent hotness. Let’s just say he fills out a T-shirt far too well. Tall and broad are one thing, but add to that the rippling muscles and veiny forearms and—yes. Just…yes. “To do the…the…in—incident report thing?”
Whoa there, body, hold up.
Think with the brain, not the box.
“I’m here because a pile of wilted banana peels could do a better job of protecting your cat than you’re currently doing.”
I’m so stunned that my mouth keeps right on trucking before my brain catches up again. “Uh…banana peels can’t look after anything. They’re banana peels.”
He gives me an exasperated look and says flat out, in that ominous, growly, emotionless, imperious tone, “Exactly.”
Truly. Like, really. He actually goes there. Out loud.
I do my best to intimidate him with his badass, close-cropped hair and scarred and scowling persona, except I’m about a foot shorter than he is and a good hundred and twenty-five pounds lighter. My angry face couldn’t intimidate an ant with major jump scare and anxiety issues.
But just…fuck it.
I take back that smash. This neanderthal is a hard pass. All the hard passes. That ego he’s sporting and the ease with which he spouts total asshole insults without even knowing a person? Ugh. Gross.
If this asshole thinks he can come here and be a total butthole, he can think again. I might be a super nice person, but I am not going to stand here and take this after my fur child was just about kidnapped. On his watch.