Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
The over-the-top possession coursing through me had an emotional protectionary barrier dropping in place. The same one I used while dealing with people in my industry. Something told me that Mace needed distance. So did I.
My focused stare shifted to the ground, studying the broken concrete and dirt beneath my feet. That lasted about ten seconds before I lifted my chin, again staring at my heart’s desire.
“The totals at the bottom, circled,” Mace said loudly, rolling his eyes. His body followed the action, leaving his sister standing there. “I checked it again this mornin’. It’s circled, meanin’ I gave a final look over. Get off me, Lori.”
“I don’t trust you,” she stated evenly. “Seems like somethin’s missin’.” She pivoted, walking back toward us. “I need to count the bottles to make sure you got what you ordered,” Lori said, leaving Mace in her dust. “We had a big weekend. Anything could have happened. Where’re you guys from?”
“We’re all from around here,” Wyatt answered first, bending as he jumped into the back seat, rearranging the cases of beer to make room for his sorry ass. “I’m the only one who still lives around here. Scout’s military. Slade’s from…”
Scout’s hand reached back to slap Wyatt’s thigh. A warning sign that Wyatt needed to remember to keep the secret.
“I got this,” Wyatt said, with all the cocky sass he had to give. “Slade’s from everywhere. He’s the entrepreneur.”
Only out of frustration with the situation, I forced myself to move, to act like a normal human being. I thumbed through the bills. Surely, this was more than enough money, including the steaks.
Out of uncertainty, I fished through my other jeans pocket, searching for the money clip usually there.
“What’s there to do around here?” Wyatt asked.
“You’re lookin’ at it,” Lori said, splaying her arms out from her position at the rear of the vehicle. “The bar stops servin’ meals around two-thirty in the afternoon. The nightlife happens after that. Fridays and Saturdays it’s like a circus around here. Mace’s in charge. He has too much fun and is heavy-handed on his pours. The town gathers here because of him. He becomes talky and fun after a couple of beers.”
“So eatery, bar, liquor store, butcher counter, what else?” Wyatt asked.
“Mace builds furniture. We sell rockin’ chairs.” She pointed to two natural wood rocking chairs lining the outside wall of the building. “They sell really well. We’ve shipped one to Germany.” She used a louder voice that held zero remorse for her previous discourse. “Mace, the order’s correct.”
As everyone else turned to the chairs, Lori came closer to me, staring at my profile. I spotted the moment of recognition, or at the very least, she realized she should know me. “Christopher Whitaker?” she mouthed my stage name.
My index finger lifted to my lips, begging her silence. Damn, I’d spent too much time there. I needed to go.
“They’re made out of mesquite wood,” Mace added, coming closer. The tension in the rich tenor of his voice eased as he spoke of the chairs. “They take about a week to build. It’s a hobby.”
On impulse, I said, “I’d take the pair. But I’m not sure I have the cash to cover it all. Do you deliver?”
“Sure,” Lori said. “We can deliver them this evenin’. Maybe around six. Is that good for you?”
“Yeah. That fits,” Wyatt added, as if he had a say in any of this. “We’ll be there.”
“Two chairs cost three hundred dollars,” Mace stated. He crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest, coming to stand beside me and his sister. The way he said the price, left no room for negotiations. Lori, though, didn’t hide her surprise, swinging to face Mace’s direction, astonished.
“You’re saying a hundred and fifty dollars apiece?”
“Sure,” Mace replied, indicating that wasn’t their normal price. His sister’s brows dropped, her mouth opened, but no sound came out. If he were a betting man, he’d guess that wasn’t her normal way either.
“They aren’t cheaply made,” he explained, defending the price. His right hand popped out of the tight chest hold in a way of talking with his hand, but the callouses on his palm proved what he said. “I chop the wood myself. I also plant trees to help equal out the carbon footprint. It’s a lot of work. A hundred and fifty dollars each makes sense.”
My gaze connected to Mace’s slate stare and held. The unguarded moment lasted longer than it should. This time the ease within me turned to contentment.
I wanted to know this guy more than anything else in the world.
Know him with his clothes off. Inside my bed.
“My brother has an animal rescue center he supports,” Lori finally said, perhaps trying to explain the cost.
“All right. Let’s make it an even four hundred dollars,” I said to impress.
The summer months were looking so much better.