Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
It was very simple, but it helped my pale white skin look less ghost-like, and more presentable.
I’d just stepped out of my house and locked the door when I looked over at the house across the street and the breath stalled in my lungs.
Tate was there, standing beside his bike, staring at something. Something that I couldn’t see, but he was definitely interested in.
My brows furrowed as I took the steps down the walk, and then I tripped over a large book that was on the ground.
“You Need Jesus,” I read aloud. “I need Jesus?”
“You got one, too?”
My eyes went from the book lying on the ground, to the man that was now straddling his motorcycle.
“You mean the ‘You Need Jesus’ book that was on my front walk?”
He nodded.
“Then yes, I got one, too.” I smiled, trying not to seem too overly eager to talk to him.
I wanted to lay my head against his chest and listen to the rumble of it while he spoke, but that would probably be one of those patient/doctor boundaries that I probably shouldn’t cross.
“See you there,” he muttered, then started his bike.
I bit my lip as I watched him ride away, and wondered if I could take a picture of him the next time I saw him get on his bike.
I was in this ‘Beard Watch’ group on Facebook, and each time someone from the group saw an exceptional beard that they loved, they snapped a picture and posted it.
See, I wasn’t all that great at it like some people were.
The group admin’s mother was good. She’d walk right up to a bearded man and take a photo. Me? I’d be willing to take them through the blinds of a restaurant, but if it required me to actually interact with said bearded man, then I’d freeze.
I got embarrassed easily, and when I got embarrassed, I forgot how to use my tongue.
Hence why I sucked at doing anything outside of work.
I was a social pariah.
Annoying, but true. I got into the car and started it up, making the drive to the office in ten minutes, and still beat Tate there.
Deciding that he’d gone to grab a coffee or something, I pulled my office keys out of my purse and started walking, head down, to the front door.
That’s why I never saw him coming until it was too late.
“Bitch.”
I looked up to find my date, Tad, standing there with a look of pure fury in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Tad.” I hesitated. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”
“You knew I didn’t want to eat tacos,” he hissed. “But you said, ‘this is my favorite place. You have to try it,’ and I caved. It’s all because of your stupid, stupid eyes.”
My eyes? What?
“I don’t know what you’re speaking of,” I admitted. “But I have an appointment in less than five minutes, so I’ll have to finish this discussion later.”
“You’ll finish it now, bitch.”
He wrapped his hands around my arm and squeezed.
For a little dude, he was surprisingly strong!
I yanked my arm away from his grip and took a step back.
Then he lunged.
I stepped back, but it proved unnecessary when a hand wrapped itself around Tad’s shirt and yanked him back before he could take even one threatening step in my direction.
Tad squealed. Literally, squealed. Like a tiny little pig picked up when he didn’t want to be.
“I know that you weren’t about to do anything to the good doctor here,” came Tate’s chilling admonishment. “Because if you were, I might very well have to defend her.”
Tate let Tad go, and the way he was straining to get away caused him to fall away with the resistance he was no longer being provided.
He hit the ground with a dull thud, but caught himself on his hands and knees.
“Fucking worthless cunt,” Tad growled, making his way back to his feet. “You made me throw up all night long!”
“Why?”
“Because you made me eat cow!”
My brows furrowed, and I couldn’t quite grasp the link of him eating cow to me making him eat cow.
“She didn’t make you eat cow, you dumbshit,” Tate said. “That was an honest screw up on the waitress’s part. You can’t honestly be dumb enough to think that Hennessy would’ve done that to you on purpose, can you?”
Tad’s face went mottled with rage.
“I’ll have you know that I was a perfect vegan until yesterday. You can’t begin to understand the cruelty to animals that goes into making the products that you heathens consume on a daily basis.”
Tate frowned at him.
“I assure you that I don’t like the way that animals are treated, either. However, you’re not a perfect vegan. I read on Google last night that cheese used to be made using cow intestines,” Tate drawled. “And let’s not forget that it’s made out of milk. You know, the thing that comes from cows? You were eating cheese tacos all last night before you ever ate the ‘cow.’ If you were a true vegan, you’d know what your cheese was made of, and why you ‘can’t’ eat it.”