Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Sure.”
As Vanetti walked out, Serenity’s brows drew together. “How long was I out?”
“It’s after five, so almost two hours. Let’s grab our things and we’ll head out.”
“Okay.”
It didn’t take long before Serenity was leading me to her car in the parking garage. She stopped in front of a gray Corolla and popped the trunk. “I know this isn’t what you’re used to,” she began. “But it’s all I’ve got.”
Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment and she shook her head. “I had to sell my Tesla to help pay my lawyer’s fees. I loved that car. Luckily, my dad kept this from my college days and let me take it.”
“It’s fine. Do you need me to drive? I can if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“No. I’m feeling a lot better after that nap.” She unlocked the car, and I opened the passenger door. I had to push the seat all the way back in order to fit inside. There were signs of wear and tear, but it was in pretty good shape considering how old it was.
She pulled out of the garage, and I slipped my ball-cap down over my head in case my stalker was watching. Twenty minutes later, we turned into her driveway. She pulled the car into the garage, shutting the door behind us.
“I have a guest bedroom for you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tease her about sharing her bedroom, but I held back. Now wasn’t a good time for that. I followed her inside the house and down the hall to a small room with a double-bed, noticing that it was directly across from the master bedroom.
“The bathroom is right there.” She pointed to a small bathroom with a tub and shower combo.
“Got it.” I took my bag into the bedroom and left it on the bed. It seemed like hours since we’d eaten our sandwiches, and I was starving. I stepped to her bedroom door and leaned against the frame as she put her things away. “Any chance we can get some dinner? I could take your car and pick up something if you want to stay here.”
“That would work, but I could probably whip up something faster if you don’t mind an omelet.”
I shrugged. “Sounds good to me, but you should let me help.”
Her eyes widened. “Okay. I won’t say no to that.”
I followed her into the kitchen, and she put me to work slicing up an onion and some peppers while she cooked up some bacon and potatoes. It surprised me how well we worked together, but then, she was easy to be around.
“How’s your head feeling?”
She smiled at me. “Not too bad, but I’m afraid the numbness is wearing off. Want to see the stitches?”
“Sure.”
She stepped close and turned her head, lifting her hair from the area. I helped move her hair away, enjoying the feel of her soft tresses between my fingers. I examined the neat, even stitches, grateful the wound was smaller than I thought. “Wow. He did a great job. No one would believe you got grazed in the head.”
She huffed. “I know, right? I have a hard time believing it myself. I thought for sure it was from the glass.”
Unable to resist, I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah. I could hardly believe it either.” She snuggled against me, and I closed my eyes, grateful she didn’t pull away. “I never thanked you, so… thanks, but don’t ever do that again. I’m not sure I’m worth the risk.”
She pulled back to meet my gaze. “What? Of course you are. Besides… it’s my job.” She made a flipping motion with her hand. “And I don’t think I’d like it if you… if you got shot. Besides, I signed a contract.”
“Wait. Are you saying you like me? So I’m not just a job?”
She blinked a few times and shook her head. “I never said that.”
I tugged her back into my arms. “But you’d be upset if I got shot?”
She tilted her head to meet my gaze, and her right brow rose. “Of course. You know how I am with blood. I might have fainted.”
I nodded, grinning. “That’s right. How could I forget that?” Her lips were inches from mine. All I had to do was lower my head just a little more—
Her gaze darkened, but instead of giving in, she pulled out of my arms. “What happened to being professional?”
“I didn’t say I was going to act professional,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “How are you coming with the peppers. About done?” She turned back to her bowl with the eggs and started beating them to death.
I smiled and picked up the cutting board. “All done. Want them in the pan?”
“Yes.”
Using the knife, I slid the onion and peppers into the hot, buttered pan. She took over and began to stir them around. I leaned back against the counter and watched her work. A few minutes later, she added the eggs and spices, and the smell was heavenly. It was fun to watch her get lost in her cooking, and I could tell that she enjoyed it.