Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Stefan barked out a laugh. “You really like making things interesting, don’t you?”
“I’ll pay double if you can get me the information in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Forty-eight.”
He clenched his jaw. It was never simple with Stefan. “It is of the utmost importance that I have this goddamn information as soon as humanly possible.”
“That’s fucking fine, but you’ve given me shit-all. This girl could be a cousin to a cousin of some rando who works for Sheridan. Or she could be not named Sloan at all. Or a hundred different options. I know my work, asshole. You want it that fast, you’re paying triple.”
Jude turned to stare out over the ocean. Arguing wasn’t going to accomplish a damn thing. He wanted that information, and he’d pay dearly for it. Stefan knew it and he knew it, so there was no point in negotiating. “Fine. Hurry the fuck up.” Jude hung up and headed for his house. He had several hours before Sloan would be finished with work, and he fully intended to put them to good use.
Chapter Five
Marge met Sloan as she was clocking out. The big woman looked down at her, her expression unreadable. “You weren’t a total disgrace today.”
“Thank you.” Two days of working alongside the woman, and she knew enough to recognize the gruff sentence for the praise that it was. Warmth kindled inside her, the steady satisfaction of a job well done. It didn’t matter that her feet hurt badly enough that she was fighting not to limp, or that she was sore in places she hadn’t known she could be sore.
She’d done a good job.
Marge nodded like she’d said more than she had. “Take tomorrow off.”
Sloan’s gaze flew to her face. “But—”
“You work yourself too hard, you’re going to fall apart. Take tomorrow off. Soak your feet. I know Luke sent you to Jessica for yoga, so keep that up—it’ll stretch out your muscles gone tense from carrying plates. Do whatever you want, but take care of yourself.” She paused, her brows furrowed into a frown. “Be here at seven on Thursday.”
She’s not firing me. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Okay.” She made it all of three steps before Marge’s voice stopped her.
“And Sloan?”
She turned to look at the other woman. “Yes?”
“You be careful with that man, you hear? He hasn’t done anything wrong since he moved into town, but he makes the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up.” She shook her head. “Makes me think of my cousin. He was a SEAL. The man was never right after the war. He’d look at people and you could almost see him mentally listing all the ways he could kill them and hide the body.”
Sloan pressed her lips together. It was sweet that Marge was worried about her, so she didn’t laugh at the woman. Jude might be intense, but the thought that he could be murderous…“I’ll be careful. I promise.”
Marge’s expression softened. “You’re a good girl. Now git. We’ll see you on Thursday.”
She left the diner, half expecting to find Jude waiting for her. She still couldn’t decide if she was intimidated or attracted, though it was realistically a bit of both. He said he was going to take her out, but what did out even mean?
She stopped short. I’ve never even been on a date. She didn’t even know what to expect.
It was entirely possible that all the dates in the world wouldn’t be enough to prepare her for Jude.
She made her way back to the house, moving slowly enough that she wasn’t hurrying, but not dallying in the least. Every step that brought her closer spiked a strange combination of anticipation and something almost like fear. Maybe he changed his mind. I’ll get back to the house and he won’t be anywhere to be found.
If that was the case, she wasn’t about to go searching for him. Sloan had never considered herself very prideful, but the thought of him changing his mind and her begging him to change it back didn’t sit well. The whole point of this was that she was taking her life into her own hands, beholden to no one.
Except Teague, who had done all the heavy lifting to transport her out here.
And the still-absent Sorcha, whose house she was staying in rent free.
Temporary. I’ll save up enough of my money to find another place.
Eventually.
She shut that train of thought down, because she could feel depression hovering at the edges of her mind, waiting for her to stop moving long enough to suck her under. Well, that was just too bad. She wasn’t going to stop moving, or allow the sheer amount of things beyond her control to bring her down. She was finally, finally, in a place where she had a modicum of control over her life, and she wasn’t going to drive herself to distraction thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong.