Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Every once in a while.” He showed me the cigar. “It keeps my mind from walking.”
“Huh,” I said. “Does it really? Or is it a psychological crutch that you use because you think it helps and it doesn’t?”
“It’s clinically proven.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I had a bad night.”
I frowned.
Then I remembered waking up today to the news that another teen had gone missing. This one close to graduating high school.
That must mean that Odin had a long night as the medical examiner for the county.
“Well,” I said. “Luckily this is almost over.”
“Today.” He stubbed the cigar out on the concrete wall he’d been leaning on and stuffed it into the metal tray by the door for just that.
“I thought there were rules on how close you could smoke to building entrances?”
“There are,” he said. “But usually that means that someone would have to enforce it. And no one did.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you would take advantage of the law.”
He held the door open for me and eyed me as I walked past. “Do you ever do anything wrong?”
I shrugged. “Not intentionally.”
“Was that you I saw not returning your cart yesterday at the supermarket?”
I scowled. “There are no cart returns in the back of the lot. Only at the front. And I’m not leaving my five-year-old in the car by herself.”
His lips twitched. “What about speeding in a residential neighborhood?”
I clenched my teeth.
I’d sped through that residential neighborhood because I’d seen Odin shirtless in his front yard with a chainsaw last weekend. Had I been driving the speed limit, I might’ve done something inappropriate. Like attack the poor man. And not in a mean way. In a sexual, he’s too hard to resist, kind of way.
Hell, my perfectly working SUV had nearly taken out a curb as I’d watched him as I passed.
The only thing that saved me from taking out his new mailbox was Wendy crying out in surprise.
I’d corrected and kept driving, but not before catching the attention of the half-naked man.
He’d looked up just in time for me to veer wildly back away from the curb.
I’d watched him laugh in my rearview mirror, too.
“That was an accident,” I lied. “I sneezed.”
That was a legit thing, though.
I’d always wondered what would happen if I had one of my sneezing fits while driving.
They were embarrassing at the best of times. But sneezing while in the car time after time after time seemed like an accident waiting to happen.
“Huh,” he murmured as he left me behind to head to the courtroom.
I took up my usual spot right next to him, since we were the last ones to arrive like always.
He crossed his arms over his chest, and I inhaled deeply as his scent hit me.
The cigar smoke didn’t bother me.
It smelled like cedar and cocoa with a hint of spice.
I hadn’t realized cigars could smell so damn good.
But I sat there inhaling Odin’s scent as we listened to closing arguments from both sides of the lawsuit.
When we were dismissed to the deliberation area, Odin once again found a seat next to me.
“What are we leaning?” the head juror asked.
I shrugged. “Guilty.”
That was probably always going to be my opinion, but the so to speak “good guys” had done their homework and due diligence.
They’d made sure that there was no doubt which way this should go.
“Agreed,” Odin murmured quietly.
The rest of them took a little longer to answer.
By the time we’d all come to a unanimous decision, it was well past one o’clock and I was starving.
We delivered the decision, the judge delivered the news and his well-thought-out punishment for the defendant, and we were free to go.
As we left, the skies looked like they were about to open.
I eyed the bike parked behind my SUV and wondered if Odin was going to get rained on the entire ride home.
I didn’t stop for any food like I’d originally been intending, instead deciding to follow behind Odin to make sure that he made it home all right.
As the first sprinkles began to fall, Odin seemed unfazed.
My wipers picked up speed as it rained harder and harder, and soon it was raining so hard that I couldn’t see anything but Odin’s taillight in front of me.
Even worse, I was now driving on mountain passes in the pouring rain, hoping beyond hope that Odin made it safely.
The lightning struck, lighting up the world, and I gasped when I saw it land only inches in front of Odin.
“Oh my god,” I breathed as he slid to a stop, his muscular thigh going out as the bike started to skid on its side to a stop.
I gasped, put the SUV in park, and jumped out, hauling ass toward where Odin was setting his bike back up and staring in shock at the ground in front of him.