Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“No problem. The walk here really wasn’t that bad, and it’s not like the weather is terrible.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to go into another spiel, but I think better of it at the last minute.
“I’ll be around all day today, if you can swing it, if not, I’ll try and catch up with you tomorrow.” The last thing I want to do is delay the process of him working on my car, and it isn’t because I need it back.
“No, no. Let me put a few things away, then I’ll head your way. I can probably be there in around thirty minutes.” I look down at what I’m wearing, cringing because I’m in a pair of Rafe’s old sweatpants, big and loose, with a hole around the waistband. I’m going to have to pilfer another pair when he’s not looking the next time he’s home. I’m also wearing one of his shirts. My big brother laughs at my craziness, but he has the softest clothes. Plus, I did the same thing in my high school and college years. I’d snag a flannel shirt of his nearly daily. I liked staying covered up. Rafe had no qualms about that, saying it was better for everyone involved, including the male variety.
“Take your time. I’ll be here.” I hear a little girl in the background call out daddy. “See you soon, Sable.” It’s not in the I’ve got to get off the phone way to hide what I’m sure is his child. It’s in a low tone, one that might be deceiving my ears into thinking there’s way more to the conversation.
“Yeah, see you.” I barely gather my thoughts to form a coherent sentence, so consumed in how he says my name that I may have to make a pit stop in the shower to cool down the heat flowing through my body.
9
Colt
“Is that her?” Nellie asks, looking up from her lunch at the table. We decided to order food from the diner, eat down in the shop, and keep working on Sable’s car and the project car I’ve had for far too long. Clearly, I’ve got no intention of fixing it up and selling it for a profit.
“That’s her.” Sable struts across the parking lot, this time wearing more clothes than last night yet still looking every bit the bombshell woman she is. Her hair is up in a stylish bun, some hair falling loosely here and there, and a megawatt smile crosses her face the minute she sees Nellie and me. Her tight long-sleeve shirt amplifies her lush curves, full tits, slim waist, and flared hips that sway with each step she takes, and the shoes on her feet are none other than a pair of black Converse.
“She’s really, really pretty,” Nellie states what I already know. Part of the reason I was a raging asshole last night was due to the fact that she damn near knocked my dick in the dirt. I’ve dissected the conversation, thought it through, and while yesterday was a tough one, nothing made sense when it came to Sable.
Which is probably why I texted her last night and this morning, then came up with a lie that made Nellie raise her eyebrows near her hairline, covering her mouth to cover her laughter and trying to keep from spilling the beans. The lie isn’t that elaborate. We do have some customers who require a mandatory deposit as well as signing on the dotted line for the estimate, so at least if they back out, we’re not stuck with time wasted.
“Yeah.” I grab a rag, wiping my hands to rid them of the grease from pulling out the brake lines on the Camaro.
“Aunt Kara is going to have a lot to say about this,” Nellie says in a sing-song voice. Man, maybe I should rethink her spending so much time around us adults. My daughter can talk and hold a conversation without missing a beat, a fact I’m coming to terms with a lot recently.
“And what’s it going to take to keep this between you and me?” I’ve got maybe thirty seconds before Sable is in hearing distance.
“A trip to the stationery store.” Totally doable, it’s part of our routine in some shape or form near the holidays, and Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. “Let’s say once a month for three months.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“I wasn’t done. Dinner and ice cream out, too.” There’s hopefulness in her voice. We don’t eat out on the regular, maybe twice a month unless a day like today appears, and I’ve yet to grocery shop.
I ponder for a moment, making Nellie wait, and at the last minute, right as Sable appears at the door to the garage bay, I say, “You’ve got a deal.”
“I knew I would.” She shrugs her shoulders, moves her food away from her work, and goes back to cutting out pieces from a magazine to glue onto cardstock.