Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“It’s for Welcome Night haz—”
“We’re doing a scavenger hunt. Just a little baseball team fun, but you’re closed, so we’re going to go.”
I don’t budge when Rick glares at the side of my head.
“Can you help us out? I’m team captain and it would look really badly if I’m not able to complete—”
“We’re closed. The register has been tallied for the night, and the deposit made.”
I frown when she emphasizes the last part as if she thinks we’ll try to fucking rob her for some reason.
“Can we borrow a book then?” I ask, remembering that we aren’t allowed to purchase anything.
“Sure,” she says. “From the library.”
“They’re closed,” I remind her.
Her eyes dart to the sign hanging on the door, once again implying that I’m an idiot.
Rick and I laugh at the same time, and I wonder if he’s thinking about how similar she is to the girls back at the clubhouse. They don’t pull any punches either. As much as I love the backbone on this girl, I just can’t seem to give up. I’m not accustomed to not getting my way. I blame it on being an only child even though I wouldn’t consider being spoiled while growing up.
“How about we barter?”
The slow smile I was forming drops from my face when she scans the length of me and clearly finds me wanting.
This pulls another laugh from Rick’s throat, and I know right then and there, that I would let this girl humiliate me all damn night if he kept making that sound.
“Let’s trade,” I say, pulling my t-shirt over my head.
She cringes, her head literally snapping back when I hand over my shirt as if I’m trying to convince her to take a steaming pile of shit from my hands.
“Jesus, what is wrong with you athletes?” She reaches to the side and shoves a book at my chest. “Just take it.”
I drop my t-shirt at her feet, because a deal is deal, before snatching the book from her, grabbing Rick’s arm, and running down the sidewalk.
We’re both in hysterics, laughing like hyenas as we round the corner.
“That was fun,” I say, calming down before Rick manages to do the same.
“Her face,” he wheezes, trying to draw in a breath and failing miserably. “Did you see it?”
He makes that same face, the one of pure disgust before he chokes on laughter once again.
“Har har,” I snap, but my cheeks are still pulled tight in a smile.
“Does it hurt?” he says, wiping tears from his cheeks with the backs of his forearms.
“What?”
“Finding a woman who doesn’t fall for that corny ass smolder of yours?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to get my face under control before letting my eyes drop to his mouth. He freezes when I step close, my tongue sweeping over my bottom lip.
He sobers immediately. “What are you doing?”
I know the coast is clear when his eyes dart behind me before meeting mine once again.
Laughter floats to us on the wind, and I freeze myself.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “What’s next on the list?”
Rick pulls his card from his back pocket, his hands trembling as he looks down at the thing.
“Something that smells amazing,” he answers before he looks back up at me.
My eyes drop to his neck, remembering just how good the man smelled when his back was to me last night.
“Me?” he squeaks.
I lick my lips once again, and despite the safe distance between the two of us, I know if anyone saw the look in my eyes right now, my desire for him would be easily readable, and that freaks me out a little.
“Maybe Ruth will give us a slice of pie?” Rick offers as I take another step back, but I’m unable to calm my racing heart until he makes the first move further down the sidewalk.
I know he saw the fear in my eyes. I also know that he wasn’t impressed with the way I reacted.
Guilt doesn’t stop me from turning on the charm at The Brew & Chew, and although Oakleigh looked like she wanted to retch when I smiled at her, Ruth isn’t as immune.
“She only gave you the pie because she loves helping out the college,” Rick says as we head outside. “It has nothing to do with your charm.”
“I thought it was broken,” I confess as I slide the book Oakleigh gave me into the bag Ruth provided for the Styrofoam container the pie is in.
He chuckles. “There’s nothing wrong with it. The problem is thinking that it will work on everyone you attempt it with.”
He turns down an alleyway, and I walk a few steps behind him. We’re headed to the post office since a dozen pecans for some reason is the next thing on our list, and he’s certain that the tree outside that building is a pecan tree.