Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
They covered up his beautiful gray eyes that always reminded me of storm clouds. Then he placed his heavily tattooed arm on the door, and started to back out of the parking spot.
I watched until I couldn’t see him any longer.
“Oh, you’ve got it bad,” Tasha teased.
I returned my gaze to her.
“He’s married,” I answered with a sigh.
She nodded. “Well, from what I could tell, y’all definitely have some chemistry going on. But you need to be careful, because that’s exactly what your new business does not need: you being known as a home wrecker.”
I snorted.
“The man’s a biker…isn’t it expected that he’d cheat?” I asked, pushing away the basket containing my lunch.
My stomach was in knots as I thought about him being married.
Tasha was right though; I totally had the hots for him.
And I’d had them for a long time.
I’d been in Uncertain, Texas for going on six years now.
My parents had moved here at the end of my senior year.
My father had just gotten out of the military, and he’d decided to open a fishing and bait shop off the side of Caddo Lake.
So I’d been here the day Mig had arrived in town.
He’d ridden in on his Harley, dressed in a black leather jacket, tight faded blue jeans, and his signature wraparound sunglasses.
And here I was, years later, still just as hot for him as the day I’d seen him for the first time.
I’d never told anyone about my avid crush on Mig, though.
I was too scared of all that was him.
Secretly, I was worried that if I admitted my crush, he’d somehow find out.
He was good like that.
Then I’d moved into the house next to him, completely by accident, and about died.
But he’d been exceptionally cool about everything.
And he’d become a friend, even if from a distance.
A friend that I had the hots for…who was married…with a kid on the way.
Yeah, fuck my life.
Chapter 3
Ladies, if you see a man eating BBQ wings with a knife and fork, it’s likely he doesn’t eat pussy right either. Run. Don’t look back. You can thank me later.
-Tasha to Annie on the eve of her marriage to Ross
Annie
Ross: I think about you every day.
Me: I think about pizza every day.
Ross: Don’t you miss me even a little bit?
Me: Let me think about it.
Ross: Well?
Me: Well, what?
Ross: Do you miss me?
Me: No.
Ross: Not even a little bit?
I thought about that for a second.
Did I miss him at all?
No.
Did I miss being with someone?
Yes.
Would I take Ross back to get that back?
Hell fucking no.
Me: No.
I placed my phone down onto the coffee table, then turned my head to study my front yard.
It’d been mowed.
By Mig, no doubt.
Jesus, did the man ever slow down?
I wished I’d have gotten up the courage to talk to him when I’d first moved in.
Then Ross would’ve never happened.
And I might be happy right now, living the life his wife was living instead of my miserable excuse for an existence.
I stood up when I saw Mig walking towards the road and his bike, watching as he straddled the bike, gave a hard glare at his house, then started his bike up with a roar.
My brows rose as I saw him speed out of the little road we were both located on, and laughed when I heard his bike all the way to the highway.
My phone rang just as I moved back away from the window, and I smiled when I heard Lenore’s voice.
“Hey! Wanna come hang with me so I won’t be the only girl?” Lenore asked cheerily.
I thought about my life and how I never did anything.
How I would never meet another Mig if I didn’t get myself out there, and I came to a decision.
I was going to have to get over my crush on Mig.
And I was going to have fun doing it.
“Sure,” I said, walking to my bedroom to get dressed. “Where am I meeting you, and do I need to bring anything?”
I made a half-assed attempt to fluff up my hair, and in the end decided to put it up in a high pony tail, following it up with a swipe of mascara as I listened to Lenore give me directions.
“Where is this place?” I asked after she’d told me what turns I needed to take to get there.
“It’s…shit. I gotta go. I’ll see you there in ten, I forgot I was supposed to bring beer.”
I shook my head as I reached for my tightest pair of jeans that I had, shimmying into them and wincing when I pinched my belly in my attempt to button them.
After three more tries, I got the button done and the zipper up before I threw on a plain black halter top, slipped my feet into a pair of flip flops, and started towards my front door.