Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Except… it seemed like some part of me had rushed ahead. Maybe it started when he told me he’d never felt this way about anyone else. I’d felt the same way, to be honest. So how did you walk away from something like that?
It was hormones talking. Or my satisfied clit. Why would I walk away from a guy with so much tongue talent? Or maybe it was my heart doing the thinking, which was really dangerous. I shouldn’t read into this time as anything more than a fling. He’d be going back to Montana soon enough, and I’d–
Well, hopefully, I’d be alive. I highly doubted I had a job come Monday, not that I wanted to keep working there. I shouldn’t expect anything from Roy. There was no expectation, no matter what he said.
“Brooke,” Casey said, cutting into my thoughts.
Maybe Casey was right. Maybe he was married, and this was some schtick he had with the girl in every port.
Gah.
“I…don’t know,” I told her. “I like him. Maybe he’d move to Denver to be with me.”
Casey laughed, denting the hope fluttering in my heart. I couldn’t think about it, though, because Roy was walking in carrying my gym bag.
“Thank you,” I mouthed, taking it from him and setting it on the bed.
He kissed me. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
I watched his ass in his jeans as he headed into the bathroom.
“Ooh, was that him?” Casey asked, overhearing. “He does sound hot. Send me a pic. And his license! I’d better go. I’ll be back in town on Tuesday. We’ll lounge on our couch and eat ice cream, and you can tell me all about it.”
Our couch. The one where the bad guy ate my raisin bran before Roy killed him.
“Sounds good,” I replied, wondering how I was going to ever sit on that couch again. Or be in my living room. “Have fun meeting a Latin lover!
Roy had left the door open as he stripped, giving me a glorious view of his perfect physique. I leaned sideways to make sure I caught it all as I ended the call. Roy sent me a wink before he disappeared into the steaming shower.
Time to act. I darted into the bathroom to grab his wallet out of his jeans pocket. His license was right inside.
Roy Banner, from Cooper Valley, Montana. He hadn’t lied about that, at least.
I took a quick picture of it and texted it to Casey.
There. Now I could stop worrying about red flags. Casey would do her background check and tell me it was all fine.
At least, with Roy. It wasn’t all fine. I still had mobsters who wanted me dead, a client who was going to go to jail if I talked, and a job I would probably lose or had lost already.
So, just an average Saturday.
15
ROY
* * *
She’d been talking about me when I walked into the room. I didn’t know who she was talking with on the phone, but my wolf liked that she was sharing me with someone. At least right up until she said, “Maybe he’d move to Denver to be with me.”
Move to Denver?
Fuck.
I couldn’t live in Denver. It had over a million people. It was crowded. Noisy. Too many fucking elevators. I didn’t think I could survive any of that. My wolf would go apeshit living in a city. Even if we could find a place in the foothills of the Rockies to the west of the city, I’d still have trouble. The nearby mountains were also loaded with people and their houses with views. I needed to roam. To run on full moons. Hell, anytime I was around too many people these days, I went nuts. The home show was in the huge convention center, except… crowds. Concrete. Four very-far-apart walls.
I’d come to town to build my business and was gonna leave with a mate.
The sooner I could get her safe and get her the fuck out of this state, the better. Right now, I was halfway crazy, and I’d just run up and down the five flights of stairs twice to work some energy out. But stay here in Denver? No way.
I’d stopped by that mobster’s hotel room down the hall to see if I could tie up that loose end for Brooke. By loose end, I meant snapping his neck, too. If he was dead, he sure as hell couldn’t fuck with my mate any longer. Unfortunately, the room was empty. The housekeeping cart had been parked outside with the door propped open. I’d poked my head in, and there was no sign of anyone still occupying the suite. No scent except for cleaning products and air freshener.
Dammit. I pumped some shampoo from the wall dispenser in my palm then washed my hair as my brain kept spinning.