Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
"Not to you," Maria said.
Hayley still kept her eyes glued to the door in case he came back.
When five o'clock hit, she cashed out, clocked out, and grabbed her duffel from Maria's office. Hitching it up onto her shoulder, she headed out. Maria had told her that Shooter's real name was Chris Sullivan and that he was 33. According to the address he gave her, his rental property was six blocks from the bar. During her break, she'd located it on the map that came with her book and memorized the easiest route. Living in a new city every few months had honed her sense of direction and her ability to get around easily in new places and even stopping for coffee (so she could pretend she really did have an errand to run) she arrived at the little house minutes early.
It was a cute little house, as far as little houses went. It was painted blue on the outside with white shutters that had only just started to fade from the sun. The yard was well-kept and the neighborhood itself, while not fancy by any means, seemed to be made up of residents who took care of their property. She had no doubt lived in worse places.
She sat down on the steps of the front porch and set her bag down at her feet. A few minutes later, a low rumbling sounded from up the street, in the direction she'd just come from. She leaned forward, around a hedge, to see a large black and chrome motorcycle coming up the street. As she watched, she recognized Chris. He steered the bike into the driveway of the house next to where she was sitting.
She dug out the slip of paper on which she'd written the address and frowned at it. She never got details wrong. It was why she was such a good waitress. Maybe she'd been tired from the road and made a mistake.
The house next door was white, not blue, with black shutters. It was also larger. The yard was also well-maintained and it had a garage, whereas the blue house did not. Not that she needed a garage, of course, but she hoped the mere fact of it didn't up the rental price too much. She was already tempted to tell him he could store whatever he wanted in there while she was in residence as long as it meant he didn't jack up the rent.
He kicked the stand down, got off the bike, and started moving toward her. "It's the right house," he told her as she was checking the paper against the numbers on the mailbox. He dug out a set of keys and jogged past her up the steps.
She glanced back at the bike. "The neighbors don't mind you using their driveway?" Well, at least she would have nice neighbors. Bonus. She did hope, however, they weren't too friendly.
"That's my house," he informed her as he unlocked the front door.
Hayley didn't move. "You....you live next door?"
He didn't answer, probably because he'd just finished telling her he owned it. Instead, he held the front door open and looked back at her, his gaze telling her to get her ass in gear, even if he didn't actually say anything.
She hesitated, then slowly crossed to the steps and picked up her duffel. She followed him inside, but remained just inside the door. He sighed, irritated. "You want to see the place or not?" She nodded, set her bag down by the door, and cautiously stepped further in. "You gonna shut the front door?" he asked, again irritated.
Hayley looked behind her at the door and took a long moment to consider before finally closing it with a soft snick.
**********************
Chris watched her as she shut the door, looking she'd just been sentenced to death. She came further into the living room, but stayed well away from him. The woman was obviously terrified of him, but hiding it pretty well. Well, good, he thought. If she was afraid of him, then she wouldn't give him any shit, either.
The living room was pretty self explanatory. A couch, a chair, a coffee table. No tv. Around the corner was the kitchen, also small but functional.
"The kitchen's got new appliances," he told her, heading into that room. They weren't top of line, far from it, but they were new. They hadn't been changed for the last twenty years and he'd decided to give the place an overhaul. New paint everywhere. Beige. New carpet. Also beige. New appliances, white. The furniture had been newer and so he'd left that alone. It was a small one bedroom, but it had a nice back deck that Chris and his boys had built last fall. It ran the length of the house and was situated in the opposite configuration of the deck on his own house next door.