Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I don’t like the looks of this at all. Noah is tall and packing muscle, but this guy has emotion on his side which I know from personal experience has the power to turn anyone into a superhero.
Slipping on my yellow flip-flops, I run to the rescue, flying out the front door armed with Spike. I’m halfway there when Noah spots me and blanches. His hand comes up in a signal for me to stop in the middle of the street and I do.
“Maren, get back inside!”
I hold up Spike, not so subtly letting him know I’ve got this. Swinging Dick’s attention slides to me and I note two things at once. One, he’s been crying. And two, he’s wasted. High as a kite, his pupils are blown out.
“Hank! Hank, look at me. Don’t look at her,” Noah implores. “Maren! Goddammit, get back inside!”
Jana appears in Noah’s doorway with her hands over her mouth, her face swollen and raw from crying.
“Hank, go home!” she shouts. Hank is obviously an ex-boyfriend looking to reclaim his lost love.
And that’s when it occurs to me––I could be Hank. This could be me, wandering around Noah’s lawn with no pants on, pining for my lost love. One reality check coming right up.
Hank starts grunting and howling at the moon and my courage starts to wane. A sinking feeling says I may be in over my head. The only thing that stops me from scampering back to the house is that every cell in my body rejects the idea of leaving Noah out here alone with him.
The sound of approaching sirens has all of us looking down the street. Lights flashing, a white Chevy Tahoe comes at us at a high rate of speed. It makes a hard stop and none other than the chief of police himself gets out, his hand casually resting on his holstered gun.
In a flash Noah is inexplicably standing between me and Hank with his back glued to my front. I have to look around his arm to see what’s going on.
“Maren, back away.” Noah’s voice is agitated, on the edge of desperation. He needs to chill. I understand this is a volatile situation but it’s not like the guy has a gun. “Stop smelling me and get back inside right now!” he growls, chewing the words between his molars.
“Get over yourself, I did not smell you.” I totally did. I couldn’t help myself. “And I’m not leaving you here with this wacko––besides, I’ve got Spike.”
“Spike ain’t gonna do shit against the shotgun he’s got in the gun rack of his truck.”
Oh God.
Real fear is cold. That’s why they call it bone chilling. And it’s all I feel right now because standing between me and the man with access to a shotgun is Noah.
“Hank, get down on the ground,” Chief Brandt very calmly orders. “Get down on the ground, Hank. You don’t want to hurt anybody. I know you don’t. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I love her, man,” Hank croaks between a spurt of broken sobs, tears funneling down his face.
“I know you do. And she knows it too. But you need to sleep it off, brother. Everything will look better in the morning. I promise.”
Axel Brandt’s voice is so incredibly soothing that he almost lulls me into believing everything will be all right.
“Get on the ground, Hank. Easy, buddy. Hands where I can see ’em.”
Slowly but surely Hank falls to his knees and eventually goes down on his belly.
“Hands behind your head. That’s it, nice and easy.” Chief Brandt advances and restrains Hank, gently clasping a pair of cuffs on him. A deputy I didn’t even see arrive starts to read Hank his rights. It takes both men to ease him up on his feet while Hank continues to confess his love to the chief.
“I love her. I didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
With a gasp of surprise and disgust, my gaze shifts to poor Jana standing in the doorway with her arms wrapped around her middle, looking distraught.
“You need help, Hank. We’re gonna get you some help,” the chief murmurs.
One minute I’m watching Hank being placed in the back of the deputy’s squad car and the next I’m being crushed by two heavily muscled, tattooed arms, my face squished in the dip between Noah’s pecs. It takes me a minute to shake off the surprise and relax in his hold. And goodness is it something.
I’m drowning in his scent, wrapped in his heat, held up by his solid strength. I listen to his heart thump hard under my cheek and almost squeal in delight because it feels amazing. Nothing has felt this good in years.
“You idiot!” His roughhewn voice vibrates near my ear. I wiggle my pinned arms around his waist and hold him back. “You could’ve been hurt or worse. I could kill you!”