Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
This might’ve been the dumbest fucking move of my life. Only time would tell.
“What do they got goin’ on today?” I asked her, watching Shayla’s eyebrows tick up.
“What do you mean?”
“They got school. What else?”
“Oh, um…” Her lips pressed together as she thought. “Eli has baseball practice, and Dominic has his tutoring.”
“You able to handle both of those?”
She hesitated, briefly looking like she might puke all over herself, before rushing out an “I have to.”
That was all I needed to know.
“Right. I’m thinkin’ the younger one will want to be with you, so I got the older kid. Which one’s that?”
Now Shayla didn’t just look like she might puke. She looked like she might puke, then pass out, then pass out again after coming to.
“You all right?” I asked her.
“I…I’m not sure,” she whispered. “What are you saying? Are you offering to help me?”
I jerked my chin.
“Why?”
Straightening off the car, I shoved my hands into my pockets, breathed deep, and just stared at her.
I had no fucking idea how to answer that question.
What could I say? I was over here because I couldn’t ignore her? That no matter how hard I fought it, I couldn’t mind my own fucking business when it came to her? Oh yeah, sure. I might as well also fess up to watching her videos every free chance I got, staring at her when she didn’t know it, thinking about her when I was alone…yeah. I’d get right on that.
I didn’t understand what the fuck I was doing any more, I just knew I had to do it. And if I didn’t understand this, how could she?
I figured Shayla would accept my help without needing an explanation, just fucking take what I was offering since she was needing it so bad, but then she started rolling up her window and shutting me out.
I narrowed my eyes. What the fuck?
“Hold on,” she said quickly when she noticed the vein in my forehead about to burst.
I stepped back when Shayla threw the door open after cutting the engine.
“I need to clock in before I’m late,” she explained, hitting the button on her key fob and locking up the car. She turned and looked up at me, holding a bright red folder in her hand. We were a foot apart.
We never stood like this before—not this close. Not without a barrier.
I knew Shayla was a tiny fucking thing, but I didn’t realize how much I’d tower over her.
I was six foot three. I’d guess she was five foot two, maybe, the top of her head hitting several inches below my chin. And she was little everywhere. I could tell even with her thick coat covering her.
She wouldn’t even need to wrap her legs around me and hold on. I could carry her all fucking day, no problem.
My jaw clenched.
Shit. What the fuck? What the fuck was I doing? Why was I thinking about her legs wrapping around me and any part of her holding on? Jesus Christ. I did not need to be thinking about shit like that.
Shayla cleared her throat, drawing my eyes off her body—you’re a motherfucking dick for looking—and motioned at the building with her head. “Can we talk inside?” she asked.
I nodded, letting her lead the way.
The time clock was in the lounge, so I knew that was where she was headed. After entering through the back door, I stayed straight and made for the kitchen while Shayla veered off.
“You coming?” she called out.
I froze just outside the kitchen, looking up and seeing interest in J.R.’s eyes where he stood at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. Brows lifted, a grin quickly spread across his face.
Ignoring him, I turned my head and slid my gaze to Shayla.
She gave me a timid smile over her shoulder before taking the remaining steps to the lounge and disappearing behind the door.
Okay. Huh. She wanted me to follow her. I figured we’d have our conversation with me in the kitchen and her perched on the counter, the way I was used to having our conversations. The way I liked having them. But maybe she didn’t want to air her business with all ears listening. She just wanted me to hear it.
Just me.
Fuck, why did that feel so good?
“Well? You going or what?” J.R. asked with laughter in his voice.
Cutting my eyes to him, I barked, “Get to work!” before turning heel and heading in Shayla’s direction.
“I am working!”
He was still laughing. I could hear it.
“Then get to work some more!” I shot back.
Whitecaps wasn’t open yet, so I didn’t give a fuck how loud I was being.
I also didn’t give a fuck about the look Tori was giving me from her stance at the bar as I moved out into the restaurant.
She was curious about what was going on, but she was also looking suspicious as fuck. Her hand was stuck on her cocked hip, her gaze was hard and moving with me, and her mouth was tight, like she was fighting the urge to comment.