Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Not at all?” she asked, shocked.
“No. We just… take long walks with Frida every day. Sometimes twice a day.”
“Wow. Then I really like you with him. I’ve never seen him look at someone like he looks at you,” she added, and that fact had my heart squeezing in my chest. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk before. What do you do for a living?”
“Oh, ah, I… take pictures,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like I stumbled too much on that.
I did, technically, take pictures for a living.
Even if it was just my feet.
I forgot to ask Alaric what he’d told his friends and sister about how we’d met. If he let them know the details about his content, about mine.
Better to just tiptoe around the full facts.
“Oh, that’s neat. I should hire you to take pictures of my kids. I haven’t loved the people we’ve used in the past.”
“I would do it for free,” I told her.
And, suddenly, an idea started to form. Leaving me wondering how the hell it had never occurred to me before right then.
Because I did love taking pictures. Of Frida. Or the beach. I even liked the artistry and skill it took to continually take fresh pictures of the same tired old subjects day in and day out. And I really liked editing the pictures and videos after I took them, perfecting them, making them really something special.
How had it never occurred to me to try to pursue photography as a career?
I guess, to an extent, with the quality of cell phones being what they are, I assumed most people didn’t hire photographers anymore.
That couldn’t be true, though.
Since most people who wanted a full family shot would need to be in it themselves, not taking it.
And, of course, there were weddings.
And other things. Like real estate or for print ads or things like that.
I had to look into it.
My content site had been on vacation since I’d moved in with Alaric. And I honestly had no desire to work at it again.
The only man I wanted desiring me was Alaric himself. I figured Alaric felt the same. Because he wasn’t just on vacation. He’d removed his whole page.
I probably had enough in a savings to take a long break and work on trying to build a portfolio. Give this a real go.
“How much did Alaric tell you about his past?” Sass asked after a moment, both of us watching the man in question laugh with one of the handsome strangers.
“Are you asking about your rough childhood, or the stripping thing?” I asked, getting a big smile out of her.
“Oh, so he told you all the stuff.”
“Not much else to do on long walks but talk,” I admitted.
“I always kind of worried that he would have a hard time finding something really serious because of the stripping thing,” she admitted.
“But not the arms-dealing part?” I asked.
“Touché,” she said, clinking her drink to mine.
“I think I like how different he is from me,” I admitted. “I’ve always been someone who always toed the line, never did anything too crazy. And I’ve always been so introverted. Look at all his friends,” I said, waving around. “I honestly don’t even have one.”
“What are you talking about?” Sass asked, shaking her head. “You have all of us.”
And with that, she walked away, ducking under the arm of her man, Che, whose arm immediately went around her.
I had to say, from what I’d seen, the bikers who had ‘settled down,’ were in really healthy, loving relationships. They were always smiling, always touching, and, yeah, occasionally poking fun at one another. Even the ones who’d been together for a long time. It was sweet.
“It’s not like I’m planning on keeping it up year-round,” a female voice said, sounding exasperated. “You’re just grumpy because you almost peed your pants,” she added, making me turn to see a gorgeous goth-looking girl talking to another biker. They must have just shown up because I hadn’t met them yet.
“When I come into the house to find a six-foot-tall, creepy-as-fuck ghost woman, yeah, it’s a little off-putting,” the guy agreed.
“She weighs like three hundred pounds. I couldn’t move her to the shed by myself.”
This had to be Rynn and Cato. If I recalled correctly, they were the most recent couple to hook up.
“Where you been?” Levee asked, appearing next to the couple.
The two shared a look that told me all I needed to know about why they were late.
“How’s your uncle doing?” Rynn asked Levee.
The question immediately deflated the guy who, since I’d first met him, seemed very easy-going and happy.
“He’s… chugging along,” Levee said. “I’m gonna go get another drink,” he added, quick to escape from that line of conversation.
“That was the wrong thing to ask,” Rynn said, grimacing as she watched Levee’s retreating form.