Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
She rolled her eyes. “Defensive as hell, too. You’re too young to be this unpleasant and ornery. I mean, your voice, which sounds like you smoke about eighty packs of cigarettes a day, and that beard of yours, though nice, ages you a little, but I give your age forty, forty-five tops. Far too young for such jaded ways.”
“Why do you think I’m in my forties?”
“It’s the eyes. The eyes always tell me how old someone is.”
“Forty-three. How old are you?”
“Thirty-seven,” she said softly, her eyes narrowing.
Six year age difference ain’t much. She started talking again, softly reading him the riot act. All about being a good person, and that other snowflake, peaceful living shit some individuals liked to spew.
Regardless, he liked the sound of her voice, the way she moved, and how she wasn’t afraid to express herself. It made her chatter a bit more tolerable. The more she spoke, the more attracted he became to her. She stood her ground. Wasn’t easily rattled. Danced between politeness, sardonic humor, and candor, and had a satirical streak of her own. Not to mention, she was fucking gorgeous. And a nature lover.
They regarded one another. Like rival teams trying to figure out each other’s next play.
“Oh, shit!” She closed her eyes and slowly ran her hand over her face. “I almost forgot. I’ve got a rabbit in my truck, and it’s on ice. My friend’s pet rabbit died, and I’m supposed to preserve him for her. He’s going to spoil. Once they get to a certain state, it’s much harder to keep the—”
“Oh, just stop it, will ya?” he hissed. “You didn’t almost forget shit. You knew damn well once ya got here and got comfortable, you were going to work that into the conversation if you pegged me as a person who just might possibly give a damn. Why didn’t ya just say, ‘Can you please help me put Mr. dead Bugs Bunny in your fuckin’ freezer so I can stuff his guts later?’ I don’t need the whole dissertation, song and dance. You think you’re slicker than you actually are.”
She let free a loud sigh. Crossing her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “Well then, since you’re apparently an irritable, horrible, belligerent and nasty ol’ psychic who behaves like the troll under the bridge in the Billy Goats Gruff tale, mixed with a little Oscar the Grouch for good measure, can you please drive me over to pick up the rabbit before the ice in the cooler completely melts?”
“…Mmm hmmm. Soon as I clean my garbage can that doubles as my humble abode.” Her lips pursed, seemingly squelching the urge to laugh. “Let’s get goin’. You’ve made a mistake.”
“What mistake?” She zipped up her hoodie.
“Big critters would smell that Easter bunny once he starts to thaw. They’ll tear your truck up tryna get to it, in no time flat. I’m sure you knew to put it in a sealed cooler, but that won’t stop their enthusiasm to at least try.”
He turned the coffee pot off, then grabbed his keys. Off they went down the bumpy road in his truck, soon arriving at her broken down vehicle. The truck was covered in dried mud along the front bumper, and there was a hairline crack in the windshield. It looked rather sad and pathetic, sitting there like that. For an inkling, he felt sorry for her. He could see the disappointment flash across her face as she hopped out of his truck and made her way to her own. He joined her, pushed her aside, and grabbed the carton from the back.
“I’ve got it,” he mumbled.
“It doesn’t weigh much, and even if it did, I could’ve handled it.”
“I know that. Obviously you’re the one that put it back there in the first place. Anything else you wanna prove to me that you can handle all on your lonesome?”
She didn’t respond.
He opened the bed of his truck, shoved the container inside, and back they went, a short three minute jaunt to his home. Once inside, he barreled towards his working area, with her close behind. After he pulled the cord for the light, it illuminated the metal table, buckets, and tools. An older refrigerator and a large freezer sat against the wall, side by side. She walked over, standing by them, waiting, but instead, he placed the cooler on the metal table.
“What are you doing?”
“You said he’s spoilin’. I’ve probably got everything you need right here to stuff him.” He slid open several drawers, showing his immaculate collection of dissecting tools. Her eyes widened with what looked to be pure joy.
“I was going to ask why you had this stuff, but that’s right, you’re a hunter,” she bounced over, taking a closer look at the various knives, surgical needles, scalpels, and preserving chemicals. “I need other stuff though.” He felt a bit disappointed that she couldn’t work in front of him. He wanted to see her in action.