Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
The man watches me, eyes pointed directly at me.
As if to soften the blow of the realization that he's probably been out here all night, he lifts his hand and gives me a little wave.
I can acknowledge that he's handsome, but despite the calm look on his face right now, I also remember the look on his face, eyes almost black, when Travis showed up at Juniper House yesterday. Had that look been directed at me, I might have lost my bladder right there on the street.
I glare at him, wanting to rush over to him and tell him that the attention isn't appreciated, but I also consider how much safer I would've felt last night knowing that someone focused on my safety was so close.
He has to be exhausted, and even though I didn't ask him to stay, a hint of guilt that he did swirls inside of me.
I turn back around, unlocking my front door and making sure it's closed and locked behind me before venturing toward the kitchen.
I brew a second cup of coffee, tapping the countertop with my fingertips as the maker fills the other travel mug that I have.
I manage to get my cup in the corner of my purse, so I can manage the extra cup and get the front door locked. I'm no less vigilant than I would be if he weren't right there.
I look all around, hastening my steps when I see Chrissy, the apartment leasing agent, about fifty yards away.
"What's wrong?" he asks as he throws his leg over and climbs off his bike when he notices my haste.
"Here," I say, shoving the cup into his hand. "The leasing agent. I just don't want to talk with her."
I ignore the brush of my fingers against his as I look over my shoulder in her direction.
"Has she given you any trouble?" he asks, easily looking over my head in her direction.
I take a step back, putting a little distance between the two of us.
"No trouble," I assure him. "She's just chatty, and I make a point to be as forgettable as possible."
His eyes pull from her and drop to mine, and I hate the way he seems to be either analyzing what I said or me as a person.
"Thank you," he says, confusing me. "For the coffee."
"Oh. You're welcome."
"Is there anywhere you need to stop before heading to work?"
"You're going to follow me to work after sitting out here all night?"
I have no idea when he swapped the SUV for the bike, but I have no doubt he either wasn't gone long, or he somehow organized a way to get it without leaving.
"I'm off today, but I figured I could see you there safely before heading home," he says.
I have a million questions for this man.
I want to know if this sort of attention is special for him and his team. If it's not, then why am I getting it? Does he know something I don't know? Is the threat level against me higher here than it was back in Kansas?
How did he end up with Cerberus, and what is his life like there?
Wanting answers to any of these questions is surprising because it's not often that I have to fight the urge to get into someone else's business. I don't want them in mine, and honestly, I don't have the time or energy to waste getting to know other people.
I ask nothing of him, despite the urge being right on the tip of my tongue.
"Just straight to work," I say.
"Straight to work, or a different path straight to work?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips that makes him even more handsome.
I take another step back.
"Today is straight to work," I say before turning back toward my car, wanting to avoid any questions he might have about my schedule of different routes.
I know he was out here all night, but I still stoop to check under my car and look in the back seat, avoiding looking back at him before getting into my car. I don't want to see the judgment in his eyes or make him wonder if I think he wasn't doing a good job.
I crank the car, taking a moment to pull in a deep breath as the A/C kicks on. Even early mornings are sticky hot here, and I don't know that I'll ever get used to it.
I hum along to the music as the song ends, my car slowing as the green light ahead changes to yellow.
I lift my eyes, only this time I know I'm being followed, and I'm safe.
I pull in another deep breath, this one taking less effort than many have recently. It's as if some of the weight that has been sitting on my chest is lighter, but it doesn't last long.