Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 74379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
During those visits, I’d gotten my hands dirty with them.
But once I’d realized that being with them also meant the possibility of seeing people who would look at me like I’d kicked their puppy, I’d started going to Tobias’s place in Alabama. But being in Alabama also meant that there was a possibility that I’d see Krisney.
Which I did.
More than I was willing to admit to since I’d been a fucking stalker.
And speaking of the devil…
My eyes hit on somebody broken down on the side of the road.
I’d just dropped off a repo for the new bank two towns over, and I was on the main road heading back into town, when I saw her.
She was on the side of the road, her lemon of a car directly behind where she sat leaning against the car’s hood.
I pulled up in front of her, nose-to-nose with her car, and got out.
Her expression was pleasant and eyes welcoming—until she realized that it was me getting out of the truck.
I saw the moment that her eyes closed down, and a frown formed on her face.
“What are you doing in that?” She narrowed her eyes.
Amusement lit my insides as I rounded the hood.
My eyes scanned the street, automatically assessing what was around us.
We weren’t in the middle of town, but it might as well have been.
There was the Taco Shop to the right of where Krisney’s car was broken down and to the left was the fucking bank. Two storefronts down from that was the farmers market. One down from that was the feed store.
Every single place had at least four people out front talking.
“Couldn’t have found a better place to break down?” I asked, ignoring her question.
Krisney shrugged. “I have no control over where I break down, Reed.”
She sounded angry, and I had to fight the smile that was threatening to break loose.
I loved it when she was mad.
She was like a little spitfire, and I fucking loved it.
Maybe a little too much for a man that was supposed to be staying away from her.
Did that stop me from walking up to her and pressing my hand to her belly?
No.
But when I did that, I hadn’t been thinking about all the people who were staring at us.
I’d only been thinking that I wanted to fucking touch her.
So, I did.
“You doing okay?” I asked.
It was ninety-five degrees out at two in the afternoon. She was sweating, and her face was hot. So sue me for wanting to check to make sure she was okay.
She pressed her hand on top of mine and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just annoyed.”
I snorted.
“I think it’s time to trade ‘er in.” I smoothed my hand over her belly. “You won’t be by yourself much longer, and it’d fucking suck if you broke down further away from town without any way to get a hold of us.”
She grimaced. “I have a car…”
She did. But it was a tiny little thing that wasn’t much bigger than the one she had.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But when you need to get a double stroller, as well as all the other baby shit that you’ll have to carry around in there, you’re going to want something bigger than that little hatchback.”
Krisney sighed. “Shit.”
I snorted and pressed lightly on her belly before backing away and rounding the hood of the car.
“What’s it doing this time?”
“That overheating thing it always does.” she sighed. “I was going to give it twenty minutes and then try again. It’s been fifteen.”
I nodded and walked to the car, leaning in the window and turning the car’s ignition on so I could see the temp. “Did Travis have the radiator replaced while you were back in town last?”
She shook her head.
“No. The last time I had it replaced was when we were in Alabama. The mechanic there was the one that Tobias recommended.”
I nodded and turned the car back off.
“Come with me, and we’ll get something to eat while we wait.”
She tilted her head. “Five minutes…”
“Still reading too hot. It’s gonna take longer than five minutes. And the Taco Shop is right there. I’ve been dying to try it.”
She pursed her lips.
“Fine.”
I grinned and rounded the side of the truck, opening the door for her and watching as she climbed in.
She did, and I shut the door and rounded the truck, retracing my steps.
Once I was in the seat, I drove about two hundred feet and pulled into the parking lot of the Taco Shop.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said.
Her brows went up. “What?”
“Did you sell the house that your parents had in Alabama?” I paused. “Or is it just sitting there like this one?”
“I’m currently using this one.” She pointed out.
“You’re currently using the living room only because you need to answer the door, the kitchen to make microwaved meals, and the maid’s quarters,” I countered.