Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“You carry around a wooden bat?”
“Just a small one. I really think the question should be why wouldn’t you carry around a wooden bat?”
She’d tried to convince Lilac and Ryleigh of that, but for all of the bad things they’d experienced, they were still looking at the world with rose-colored glasses.
Well, Ryleigh in particular.
But not Opal.
Renard stared at her again before turning to start up his truck. She waited for the ridicule. For him to convince her that she didn’t need that stuff now that she lived here.
Which was bullshit.
“Fair call,” he said.
“I have the right to . . . what?”
“I said that’s a fair call. The Taser, the pepper spray and the bat. You ever thought about brass knuckles?”
“Often,” she replied. “But I’m not that great at physical self-defense. I’d just rather they didn’t get that close.”
“I get that. But still, it’s good to have a back-up in case they do get close, and you haven’t got your bat handy. You could carry brass knuckles in your pockets.”
“Not in these jeans, honey,” she told him. “I pour myself into these. They’re like paint on my skin.”
And that was the way she liked her clothes. Tight or short, sometimes both.
“Right,” Renard said awkwardly.
Hmm. She didn’t think that would make him uncomfortable. Was it that he didn’t like her clothes?
Not that she gave a shit what anyone thought.
She dressed for herself not for anyone else. People had often tried to change her or make her feel bad for her preferences.
Fuck them.
She stared out the side window. For some reason, she hadn’t expected him to react like that to her clothing.
And it kind of stung.
“You live in Mrs. Easton’s old house, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” she said warily.
He knew where she lived?
“Small town,” he told her. “No need to stiffen up like I’m your stalker or something. Everyone knows everyone else’s business in this town. Worst thing about living here. Bunch of busybodies.”
“Tell me about it,” she said. “Especially those Malones.”
He pulled up into the small drive of Mrs. Easton’s house. “Where’s your security light?”
Opal frowned.
“Alec better have installed a security light,” he grumbled.
“He did. I don’t know why it’s not coming on.” A strange feeling came over her.
Get a grip, Opal.
It’s not a freaking sign that something is wrong. All it means is that there’s a wire loose or something.
Renard just grunted. She undid her belt and turned to thank him, but he was already getting out. He stomped his way around the truck and opened her door.
“Thanks,” she told him as she climbed down.
Another grunt.
Opal rolled her eyes at his back as he headed toward the front door.
Wait . . .
“Where are you going?” she asked, running after him. Yep, she was wearing six-inch heels but that didn’t mean she couldn’t run.
She could run a freaking marathon in these shoes if she wanted.
“Seeing you to your door.”
“This town is so fucking weird,” she muttered.
“Does Devon see you to your door?” he asked.
“He waits in his car until he sees me get inside.”
“Not fucking good enough. I’ll need a chat with him about that.”
“Please don’t,” she said hastily. “Devon is a good guy.”
He muttered something under his breath that she figured she was probably better off not hearing. Reaching into her bag, she drew out her key. It had a huge fluffy pink pom-pom attached to it as a key ring.
“What the hell?”
“It’s so I don’t lose it.” She unlocked the door and turned to him. “Well, thanks.”
“Well, you’re welcome. Lock your door.”
Turning, he stomped back to his truck.
Lord save her from grumpy, impossible men.
Sometimes it felt like this town was full of them.
3
“Renard, isn’t it your day off?” Saxon walked into the kitchen with a baby in his arms.
His new baby daughter.
The kid was a cutie and Renard felt a tug in the place that should have held his heart. There wasn’t one there, of course. And he wasn’t going to fall for this baby and her cute button nose and those big, blue eyes.
Nope.
Not happening.
It helped that she was crying. What was he going to do with a crying baby? She would just upset all of the customers.
“What are you doing with her in here?” he grumbled, walking over to Saxon.
“I’m trying to settle her,” Saxon replied as he started gently bouncing the baby. “My wife is exhausted.”
“It’s too loud in here for her. Too stimulating.”
“She’s fine,” Saxon told him. “It’s just gas, I think.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake.” He couldn’t take the noise anymore. How was a man supposed to think?
Reaching out, he grabbed her, holding her against his chest.
A soft burp escaped the baby and she instantly started to settle.
“How do you do that? Every time she’s upset and you touch her, she settles,” Saxon said with exasperation.
“She just knows I mean business. You’re too wishy-washy.”
Poor guy just wasn’t as good as him and it was time he figured that out.