Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I know what he’s really asking.
He knows what he’s really asking.
He just needs to stop playing with it like he ain’t afraid of going blind.
“Ask me what the fuck it is you really wanna ask me, Kid.” I lift my mug to my lips to have a single sip. “I mean…you had enough balls to sit in the driver’s seat last night, didn’t you? Have enough balls to sit in it this morning.”
“I don’t always need to drive, Nolan.”
“But clearly you don’t need a learner’s permit anymore.”
Frustration has him flashing me a small glare. “I would just appreciate you sharing the goddamn wheel every once in a while.”
“Then consider this as me sharing.” Another gulp is attached to a snide smirk. “I took a job somewhere I normally don’t.”
“Why? To avoid dealing with me this morning?”
Pride spurs me to straighten my spine.
See.
He can do it.
“I don’t need to avoid you, Kipp.” Relief has his tightened shoulders lowering, leading me to plant my free hand on one. Squeeze. Smile wider. “I just need to avoid her.”
“Fuck you, Mutt,” Bunny mumbles from across the room informing us both she’s awake.
She’s been awake.
The woman isn’t nearly as sneaky as she thinks she is.
“Mornin’, Rabbit,” I warmly call out in return prompting Kipp to shake his head.
“Mornin’, Kid,” she sweetly coos, redirecting our gaze her direction.
“Mornin’, baby,” he adoringly croons. “I’ll bring you coffee in a minute.” My hand falls from his frame during the proclamation only to have him lightly catch it right above my wrist. “Come on. Be Maserati real with me, Nolan. Why this job?”
I’m not sure if the mindless confession is caused by the sincerity in his voice or the care in his touch. Either way I feel overly compelled to give it. “No one else would pick it up.”
He quirks an eyebrow in a silent request for further information at the same time he relinquishes his hold.
“Dude’s been stranded since three.” An innocent shrug is wedged between statements. “I was his Hail Mary pass.”
“He’s gonna need to say a Hail Mary after meeting you,” Rabbit teases, convincing me to shift my stare back to her. “Speaking from experience, I’ve said at least ten. This morning.”
“You’ll be sayin’ ten more if you distract The Kid from workin’ today.” There’s no room for argument in my tone. “Understood?”
To no surprise, Bunny isn’t given a chance to answer due to Kipp speaking up. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t come to me if you need something, okay?”
“Need not want, Rabbit.”
“I need you two to calm the F150 down.” Her eyelids leisurely close. “It’s too early, and I’m too sore for this shit.”
Gotta admit.
There are only a few things I love more than a woman well fucked by me.
And I get the feeling my best friend being well fucked by me is gonna end up on that list sooner rather than later.
Deciding to leave on that note isn’t difficult. “Kipp,” I lock eyes with him once more, “you know how to reach me if you need extra hands here at the shop.” Before the thought can even creep into his mind, I add, “Not saying you will. I’m simply saying if you do, you know I’ll haul ass back here.”
He reluctantly nods.
“You know I’ll always haul ass back here for you.”
At that, Kipp grins a bit bigger and begins retreating towards the machine. “I’ve paid at least three tickets that confirm that, Sir.”
“I mean, yeah.” Making my way over to the front door is attached a flirty smirk. “They were your fault, Kid.”
His flashed middle finger is met by a chuckle and grabbing of my keys from the counter.
What’s normally a ninety minute plus drive gets whittled down to around an hour courtesy of backroads and bribed county cops. Over the years, we’ve come to a number of agreements in the areas surrounding ours. Handling their cars – company and personal – practically for free. Donating auto shop time for auctions. Tossing in sponsorship for athletic teambuilding bullshit. It’s all more or less above board and keeps me from having to pay attention to things like speed signs, especially when I’ve got a waiting customer.
Pulling up directly in front of the brunette male leaning against the hood of his luxury vehicle smoking a cigarette instantly instills an inexplicable uneasiness. Rather than immediately turn off my engine, I study the possible new client.
His over-moussed wavy hair.
His expensive shoes.
His tailored clothing.
His empty holster.
Something about this isn’t right.
What’s a man like this doing way the fuck out here?
In the middle of nowhere?
Is he lost?
Pretending to be?
Cautiously killing my truck and sliding out of my vehicle are followed by me asking the pale male the obvious question. “You Patrick?”
He nods.
Has another drag.
“Any idea what’s wrong with your car?”
The smoke creeps out the corner of his mouth prior to him answering. “Think I just need a jump.”