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)
“If you don’t want to hear it, don’t listen,” Renard told her. “And seems to me, you’re the only one fucking complaining.”
“Language!” she cried.
“Aunt Grace, perhaps we should keep going on our walk. You know that the doctor said stress isn’t good for your heart.”
“What does she know?” Mrs. Grackle snapped.
“Well, she did go to medical school for a number of years,” Barney said.
“Oh, be quiet, Barney! And I will be calling the sheriff, you . . . you trollop!” Mrs. Grackle yelled.
Renard moved so fast that she didn’t even see him. Honestly, how did he do that? And what was he doing?
He loomed over Mrs. Grackle. The older woman didn’t usually seem small; she was carrying a lot of extra weight. But she appeared tiny beside Renard and so did Barney, who was also shrinking back.
“Did you just call my friend a trollop?”
His friend?
“Your friend?” Mrs. Grackle sneered.
Wow.
Either she was tougher than Opal gave her credit for . . . or dumber. Because if Renard looked at her like that, then she’d shut the hell up.
“My friend. And as Opal’s friend, I am not going to stand here and listen to you insult her, understand me? Now, you got two choices. You can turn around, go home and stay away from Opal. Or you can keep coming at her, calling her names and being a rude shrew.”
Mrs. Grackle sucked in a loud breath. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“How dare you! I’m a respectable woman.”
“Are you? Because I don’t think a respectable woman would be so rude. Now, I don’t like having to speak like this to the elderly, but you don’t get to go around calling people names and think you’ll get away with it just because you’re old. You better take her home now.” Renard directed that last part at Barney before he turned around and headed back to Opal.
She stared at Mrs. Grackle who was going very red in the face.
“You probably shouldn’t have done that. She is old and I don’t think she’s that healthy.”
Barney was ushering his aunt away although it looked like she didn’t appreciate his efforts. Poor Barney. She hated to think what the rest of his weekend would be like.
“So that gives her a free pass to be a bitch? And I was going to call her that but I refrained.”
Did he want a pat on the back for that?
Although how often had Opal called her a bitch? In her head, of course.
“What if you get into trouble for talking to her like that?” she asked worriedly. They were very protective of women around here.
“Just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean she gets to do whatever she likes.”
No.
But no doubt Mrs. Grackle was going to make her pay for this.
Opal sighed. This was just what she needed. But even though she was grumbling about his interference, her insides were fizzing with delight.
He’d done what he said he would.
He’d stuck up for her.
Renard walked over to where her old security light had been set up. “Have you got a stepladder?”
“Um, no.”
“No?” He set the stuff in his hands down and turned to her with a frown. “But the old light is gone.”
“Yeah, most of it was in pieces on the ground.”
“How the hell did that happen?” he demanded.
She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
“I don’t like that.”
Yeah. She didn’t like it either. “Must have been faulty or something.”
He raised his eyebrow in disbelief. Not that she blamed him. She had trouble believing that herself.
“Who took the rest of it down?” he asked. “It can’t have all been on the ground.”
“Oh, I did.”
“How the hell did you reach it without a stepladder?”
“Uh, by using a kitchen chair, of course.”
He started muttering something to himself and she felt sure she heard him say something about foolish women and breaking her neck.
But that couldn’t be right.
“Hey, you were the one that insisted on doing this,” she told him grumpily. “You can’t complain about me not having the right tools for you.”
“That is not what I’m complaining about and you know it. Complaining that you were foolish enough to climb onto a chair instead of using a stepladder. Don’t you know that you could have slipped off? Please tell me that you didn’t do that in those heels.”
“Honey, I do everything in heels,” she drawled. “And as you can see, I’m fine so there’s no need to get your knickers in a twist. I didn’t fall over, didn’t hurt myself. These aren’t even my highest ones.”
He just grunted.
But she could hear the disapproval in that grunt.
“Where’s the chair?” he demanded.
Damn woman.
What was she playing at? She needed to learn to let other people help her. There was no need for her to do everything when he was here.
Calm down.
She’s not your woman.
You don’t even want a woman, remember?
But for some reason, this one was getting under his skin. He’d thought he’d never be interested in another woman after Mary-Anne left him. She’d ripped out his fucking heart and left a ticking time bomb in its place.