A Real Good Bad Thing Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
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“Just a job,” I repeated, toeing my own party line. I didn’t like to give up pieces of myself. I’d been burned before.

But Ruby was different. She was driven and kind, persistent and fierce. And she wasn’t going to let me get away with anything less, not when she’d opened up.

She stopped in her tracks and locked her gaze on mine. “Nothing is just a job,” she said, tipping her forehead to the inky black of the sea at night, starlight dancing across the water. “Take what I do. I do adventure tours because I love it. But also because the water is where I’ve always felt most at home. It makes me feel peaceful, like a part of me. The part that makes me whole.”

She shook her head, as if shaking away the memories on the gentle breeze, then shot me that sweet smile I’d grown so fond of. “So what’s your story, Jake Hawkins? It’s only fair. We partnered up, and you know my motivation. I want to know what your story is. All I really know about you is that you have two sisters and you’re some kind of a recovery specialist.”

She deserved the truth. She’d earned it too. I heaved a sigh and pointed to the sand that stretched endlessly in front of us. “Let’s keep walking.” Walk and talk. I didn’t often serve up a piece of myself like this, didn’t like to revisit the worst days of my life. But she’d been honest, and I owed it to her to do the same.

“I have a little brother too. There are four of us. And I do what I do because I’m good at it. Because it pays the bills. Because my older sister and I are responsible for our younger sister and younger brother. My parents were killed by a drunk driver several years ago.”

Her eyes brimmed with sympathy. “Oh no. I’m so sorry.” She reached for my arm again, wrapping her hand around it as we walked through the sand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Long-simmering tension curled through me, winding in my veins, twisting through my blood as memories flashed before me.

The cops at the door.

The knock.

The solemn look on their faces as they took off their blue caps, came inside, and told Kate and me the news. Died on impact. The car had skidded off the road and wrapped itself around a tree.

“Kate and I were in our early thirties, but Kylie and Brandt were still teenagers.”

“That must have been so hard. Did they find the guy?”

I breathed in sharply. “Yes, but nothing happened.”

Those words—nothing happened—contained all my anger, all my frustration, and all my reasons.

“What do you mean?”

“The fucker got away with it. He was some twenty-three-year-old trust-fund baby, smashed out of his mind, and he lawyered up and lived his life like it never happened. I think, if memory serves,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone, “he did have to put in fifty hours of community service. Reshelving books at the library. I’m sure that taught him a big lesson.”

She huffed in shared frustration. “Amazing how just hiring a lawyer and fighting like an asshole can enable you to get away with stuff.” She squeezed my hand. “That’s why you do what you do,” she said, getting it, getting me.

“I guess I’ve found my own way to try to see justice done.”

“That’s amazing,” she said, a little awed.

I wasn’t sure what to do with her awe. I didn’t feel noble. I was simply a man trying to live by a code. “I’m glad you think so, Ruby,” I said, genuinely.

“I do,” she said, her voice quiet against the night. “I appreciate you sharing all that.”

Hour by hour, it had become easier to talk with her. To connect. “Thanks for listening.”

I tugged on her hand, and the serious moment started to fade away, like grains of sand pulled out to sea. I didn’t want to flip the mood to lightness or to make a joke. But I didn’t want to keep talking about hard things either. In fact, when I looked at her face, silhouetted by the moonlight, I didn’t want to talk much anymore.

The look in her eyes—inviting, vulnerable—said she didn’t either. I tipped my forehead toward a nearby lifeguard stand, unoccupied at this late hour. We closed the distance, and I backed up to it, leaned against it, feeling like we were in our own corner of the night. One I didn’t want to leave.

26

OTHER USES FOR LIFEGUARD STANDS

Jake

I clasped my hand over hers, pulling her closer to my body. I craved her touch, especially after our talk. I liked this woman. Liked her humor. Liked her heart. I still didn’t want to get involved while I was on a job. But I couldn’t stay away from Ruby.

Maybe I hadn’t tried hard enough. But more likely, I just didn’t want to.



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