Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“I was pretending.”
“Which time?”
“The most recent one.”
“Okay, cool. Can we go get food now?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” I said, grabbing her hand as I headed toward the door.
“You know, I like this hand-holding thing,” she said as she followed along behind me. “You’re a hand holder, I dig that. I mean it’s not good if you actually need two hands to complete an activity, but—”
“You’re babbling.”
“You freaked me out telling jokes,” she shot back. “I feel like I’m in some alternate reality right now.”
I didn’t even try to stop the chuckle that came out of my mouth.
“I mean, I figured you were too hot to be funny, you know? The whole asshole thing fits better. That made sense. I didn’t like it, but it made sense,” she continued as we moved down the stairs. “Of course you’d be an asshole. When someone looks like you, they’ve gotta have a flaw or two, right? But now you’re telling jokes, and shit feels upside down.”
I paused, making her come to an abrupt stop, and turned to face her. With her on the upper step we were nearly nose to nose.
“I didn’t handle it well when we met—”
“Yesterday? So long ago I can barely remember.”
“I was dealing with some shit, and you weren’t what I was expecting.”
“Story of my life,” she said. “People always thought they were getting this cute little princess, and boy, were they pissed when they realized they’d been given an angry tomboy with the vocabulary of a trucker.”
I wanted to say something flowery. I was supposed to say something flowery. She’d agreed to the mating bond the same day we’d met. She’d jumped in with two feet which was really fucking crazy but also really fucking incredible. Even if she had a hard sarcastic exterior, she still deserved for me to treat her like something special. Everyone wanted that.
But I couldn’t think of anything flowery, and the silence was getting awkward, so I just blurted out the only thing I could think of.
“You’re growing on me.”
Reese’s eyes widened before she threw back her head and laughed.
“That didn’t come out right,” I mumbled.
“I think it came out just right,” she countered, looking back at me. “If you would’ve tried to tell me that you were crazy about me, I would’ve known you were lying.”
“Are you crazy about me?” I asked nonchalantly.
“I tolerate you,” she replied, patting my cheek. “But that’s good enough for today, right?”
“Works for me.”
“Cool. My stomach is eating itself at this point, so if we could get off the stairs?”
“I made lunch,” my mom called out, startling Reese.
“Christ on a cracker. I need to remember they hear everything.”
“You’ll get used to it,” my mom answered.
We made our way to the kitchen and stood around the island to eat while my mom asked Reese open-ended questions and laughed at her stories. Mattie Boucher was good at that. She’d never met a person she couldn’t talk to. Danny and Zeke were the same way, and I was coming to realize that Reese was, too. I’d never been very good at keeping a conversation going. I was always too focused on what I’d say next to really hear what the other person was saying. I managed to keep myself from looking like an idiot, but no one would ever describe me as a brilliant conversationalist.
I watched as Reese daintily wiped a bit of mayonnaise away from the corner of her mouth in amusement. She had impeccable table manners under the don’t-give-a-fuck personality.
“I’m excellent with a rifle,” Reese said, nodding her head.
I’d been too busy with my own thoughts and hadn’t caught whatever the hell they’d been discussing.
“You’re what?” I asked dumbly.
“Your mom—”
“Mattie, please,” my mom corrected.
“Mattie asked if I had any self-defense training,” Reese said slowly, enunciating each word. “And I told her nothing formal, but I throw a pretty strong right hook, and I’m excellent with a rifle.”
“I’m not sure where to even start with that,” I confessed.
Reese grinned. “Well, I grew up in foster care, and I moved around a lot, so either I taught myself how to scrap, or I got terrorized.” She lifted her arms out to her sides. “Lots of new schools, lots of new homes, lots of secondhand clothes. I’ve never been particularly big, so I had to be fast and know what I was doing.”
A flash of rage flowed through me at the thought of my mate having to defend herself, but I shoved it back down. It wasn’t as if I could track down every bully she’d dealt with as a child and punish them personally.
“As for the rifle,” Reese said easily. “I was fostered with an older couple for a while, and the man liked to hunt. They didn’t have any kids, and I was the right age to take out with him. Ed and Cathy. I’m pretty sure she was afraid the old dude would fall and break a hip, so she encouraged me to be one with nature. Turns out, I’m a fantastic shot.”