Series: Shifter Ops Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Channing grunts. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Of course not. Because you don’t think.”
“I’m used to getting paid in cash. And yes, it was legal. I told you, I work in the private sector now. It’s high-risk work, which makes it lucrative. But you’re right, not everyone is used to dealing with stacks of cash. But enough are. Take this truck.” He tosses a thumb behind him. “The guy who sold me the trailer had it sitting on his lot. Told him I wanted to buy it, he said to name a price.”
“You bought that today?”
“After my errands. That’s why it took me a while to get back here.”
“That’s…not how you buy a truck. What about the vehicular history? The accident report? The pink slip?”
He shrugs, and the movement makes every one of his muscles stand out in relief. He’s got more than his fair share. An eight pack of abs with a ladder of smaller muscles up his sides and a sleek v leading to the waistband of his sweatpants.
Holy…I tear my eyes away from them.
“It’ll work out. You worry too much. Have you taught Geo to drive?” He stoops to grab his tool kit.
My eyes bug out of my head. “What? Of course not. He’s thirteen.”
“Well, there you go. I can teach him.”
“He’s too young!”
“He’ll need to practice before he gets his permit. We can go off road.”
“Absolutely not,” I grind out. “You can use the truck to go away.”
“Denied.” He flashes the dimples with the wink. Enough to make a lesser woman’s knees go weak. I hold strong. Well, I try to.
Channing sets his tool kit back in the truck and turns to me. His dimples don’t make an appearance, but they’re hovering just out of sight. Does my irritation amuse him?
I’m normally cool, calm and collected. I debate for a living. I just need to lay out my argument, make my case. But Channing looks ready for a photoshoot, leaning against his truck like that. It’s discombobulating. Plus, there’s the fact that he resembles Geoffrey. That must be it. I’m just thrown off by seeing someone who looks so similar to the love of my life.
“You bought a truck but didn’t think to buy a shirt?”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know they’re a mistake. The dimples appear.
“I bought a shirt. See?” There’s a white t-shirt slung over the open window of his new truck. He picks it up and tugs it over his torso. The soft fabric molds lovingly to his form. It’s two sizes too small.
He spreads his hands. “Better?” He looks like a cologne model in GQ Magazine. Covering up his chest doesn’t change his appeal.
The veins and sleek strength of his forearms are enough to do it for me. Not to mention his hands.
Oh God, his hands.
I avert my eyes and pretend to frown at the door.
“You didn’t have to fix this.”
“Yes, I did. And I’m replacing the old security system. State of the art.”
“We don’t have a security system.”
“Yeah, you did.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the squeal of tire wheels cuts me off. A battered Honda Civic with a Pizza sign on its roof screeches into the cul-de-sac. A greasy-haired teen hops out, his arms full of a red delivery bag. “Pizza delivery?”
“Yep. I got it.” Channing takes the five boxes and balances them on the truck bed while he pulls out his wallet. “Here ya go.” He hands the delivery kid two hundred-dollar bills.
“Thanks, man!” The kid takes off.
“See? Cash.” He waves his wallet. “It’s easy. Soup’s on!” He takes the pizza boxes and saunters past me, right into my house.
Channing
I set the pizzas out on the kitchen table, flipping up the tops to check which pizza is which. I inhale the scent of pepperoni and sausage, mostly to drive out the lavender and lilac scent that’s driving me mad. My dick is so hard, I can barely stand upright. I will it to deflate, but it’s an impossible task with Julia around. Any second now, she'll burst into the kitchen and tear me a new one. Not that I don’t deserve it. That could be fun, too.
Today’s gone better than I imagined it would. I can’t win an argument with her, so I keep changing the subject to keep her guessing. Lay out the way it’s going to be versus try to get her permission. She’ll never give it. I have to convince her.
It doesn’t help that every time she opens her mouth, I want to toss her over my shoulder like a caveman, kick down her bedroom door and claim her. If she knew the X-rated images charging through my head, she’d run away screaming. And that will get us nowhere.
First, family dinner. Then a chat with Geo. I’m here for Geo. I’ve got to help Geo. Those scratches he put on the door were no joke. Was he stuck in animal form for a while, frustrated and scared, not knowing how to shift back to human? How to get back inside his own house?