Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
“How do you like your eggs?” I ask.
“Running. Something you should do.”
“I’m content not to.”
“Of course you are.”
I find the plates, dish up her food, and place hers in front of her. “I can say my dinner was delicious, and I hope breakfast is as good.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, you.” I wink at her, and she looks away, shaking her head. I watch as she stares at her food.
“I can’t eat it.”
“Why, is it not runny enough?” I look down and find it’s fine.
“It’s touching.”
“Touching?”
She points to the bacon, which is touching the eggs.
“Oh.” I get it. I reach for her plate and take it away. She doesn’t say anything. I cook what would have been my egg how she likes it and make sure nothing is touching when I plate it up. I set the plate down in front of her. She doesn’t say thank you, but she does eat it.
“Before you leave, put everything back where it was,” she says as she bites into a piece of bacon. I watch her eat, fascinated with her mouth.
“I will.”
“Do you know how to use a knife?” she asks. “Or a gun?”
“Yes, and yes. My father was a sharpshooter. I’m a damn good shot too.”
“So why do you fix cars?”
“You’d prefer me to go out and kill people?”
Piper shrugs her shoulders. “Would be easier.”
“What would be?” I question.
“If you were a little more…” She thinks for a moment, then whispers, “Bad.”
“You don’t think I’m bad enough?” I ask, leaning into her personal space.
Piper looks up at me as she chews her food. “You’re a nice guy.”
“You think I’m nice?” I smirk, and she rolls her eyes.
“Trust you to take that as a compliment.” She stares at her food.
“Would you like it if I cut people up for a living, possibly killed someone because they looked at you wrong?”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation.
“Can’t say I would kill someone.” My hand slides around her throat, and I tilt her head back so she has to look up at me. “But if another man ever touches you, I’m an excellent shot.”
“Talk dirty to me.” She breathes, her chest heaving. I can’t help but lean down and kiss her lips.
“I knew you loved it.” I let her go and then tidy my mess before I leave. “I’ll be back tonight,” I tell her, putting my shoes on.
“Don’t.”
“Be ready by eight. I want to go out.”
I don’t give her time to argue as I stride out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
PIPER
“You can’t ignore me,” Sailor says as we sit at the nail salon while her nails are being polished.
“I can, and I will.”
“I bet he stayed the night. Tell me, did he?”
I turn and eye her. “He did.”
She smiles. “See, I did it for the greater good.”
“I don’t want more from him.”
“But why?” Sailor asks, confused.
The nail technician pulls Sailor’s hand, and Sailor apologizes. Keir has the kids, and I agreed to this days ago, but now I regret it. The lady rubs something on my feet, and I squirm from the action.
“Why is it hard to believe that I don’t?”
She shrugs. “It’s not. You’ve never really wanted more from people anyway. And you sleep with men maybe twice, but never take it too far.”
“I’ve had a few relationships. I just tend not to share them.” She raises a brow at me. I tell Sailor almost everything. I can’t help it. I trust her—a lot. If I needed someone in a dire situation, I know I could call her. She would put everything down and come. She has loyalty like no other.
“All I’m saying is, he knows the world. He may not be a stone-cold killer, but he sure as hell has eyes for you.”
“He’s a little rough in bed,” I tell her, and her eyes widen.
“Rough?” She leans in. “Tell me more.”
“He likes to talk dirty. I don’t think any man has done that to me before. He likes to grab my throat. He bites hard enough that he leaves marks.”
The nail lady looks up at me and smiles. “Kinky men are fun,” she says, and Sailor laughs, covering her mouth.
“Amen to that,” Sailor agrees. “The things Keir does with his mouth…”
“I do not want to hear that! At all,” I tell her, shaking my head.
“Just saying. When did he leave then?” Sailor asks.
“After he made me breakfast.”
“Did you eat it? We know how particular you are with food.” Only Sailor gets my food thing. She automatically tells whoever is cooking at her house how to plate mine if she doesn’t do it herself, and is discreet about it. And for that, I am eternally grateful.
“I did, but after I told him I couldn’t eat it and why. He didn’t ask a single question. Just got up and made another plate for me. It was good.” I squirm again when the nail lady starts to massage my leg. “He’s a good guy.