Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“How did you meet Canyon?” I asked her, hoping that would shed some light on this. Give me the proof I needed.
She blinked several times, as if struggling to pull her thoughts together. Hell, she even made the doe-eyed thing look sexy as hell. I’d missed her growing-up transformation. Although I had known it was coming for her one day. It had been obvious when she was a young teen. What had once made her appear awkward and steered boys away now drew men’s attention. Teenage boys wanted fast and easy. They didn’t know what to do with someone like Dolly, who needed to be taught. Most women built like her with a face like an angel weren’t so timid and in need of saving. Dolly Dixon might as well have a sign on her head that said she needed someone to take care of her.
“At a coffee shop near campus. On my way to apply for a job at the library one morning, I stopped in to get an espresso, and he was in front of me in line. He turned and struck up a conversation, then bought my drink and a muffin for me.”
Canyon Acree didn’t get coffee at college coffee shops. He had been there for a reason, and the idea that he’d been stalking Dolly to learn her schedule infuriated me. Telling her that right now wouldn’t go well. I could sense it. She needed Pepper here to explain this all to her. I would rattle her—or worse, make her cry.
“And he got your number?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t give out my number to strangers. Not even ones who look as handsome as Canyon,” she replied.
“That’s good to know. But how did you start dating him then?”
She sighed. “Two weeks later, I was on my way home from my job at Barnes & Noble, and my car got a flat. It was late, and I was trying to find my AAA card to call them when a motorcycle pulled up behind me. It was Canyon. He changed my tire for me, and we talked. Then, he followed me home to make sure I got there safely. It was real sweet,” she said with a small smile on her lips.
The fucker had probably been the one to puncture her damn tire. There wasn’t anything sweet about it. But I bit my tongue and let her continue.
“I invited him in for a cup of tea, but he said he’d just wait until I got inside. Then, he told me not to invite strangers into my apartment. Ever again. It was then he asked for my number, and I handed it over. He’d been nothing but chivalrous. He called me the next day and asked if I’d like to go to dinner. Then”—she shrugged—“we hit it off.”
He hadn’t even been slick about it. If Pepper hadn’t been so damn consumed with opening her bar, she’d have seen the signs that Dolly had been dating and stopped this. Fuck, this woman needed a keeper. She was a walking target.
Did the fact that he had shown up to save the day when she had a flat tire not register with her at all? And how many bikers with leather vests and tattoos did she see in her campus coffee shop? None. Fucking none. That was how many.
“You’re gonna need to stay here until I know Canyon isn’t going to come after you. He doesn’t trust you, and the man is dangerous. Even if he treated you a different way, the truth is, he is not a good man. The only way I can keep you safe is to put you up in the guest room upstairs. I just need a couple of days. That’s all.”
Those eyes were wide again with concern. “I can’t go home?”
I shook my head. “No. Unless you want me sleeping on your sofa.”
She was thinking that one over. There was no way in hell that was happening. I could not sleep in the same apartment as this woman and not end up fucking her. The club gave me enough distraction.
“I would prefer that, I think. I need to check on Mrs. Mildred. She will be needing to pay her bills, and I have to write her checks for her. She can’t remember how to do that correctly and gets it all messed up. Last time she tried, she paid her garbage bill twice and forgot her electricity. They cut it off on her, and she thought it was a power outage. She went two days without it, without AC, in the Florida heat. That apartment was like an oven.” She paused to take a breath, then started on again. “And who will make sure Harold eats if I don’t stop by and bring him a good meal? No one ever checks on him, and his arthritis is getting bad.” She shot up to her feet then, wringing her hands. “And Jeremy needs help with his art project. He has to make a replica of the Eiffel Tower, and I promised I’d be home tonight or tomorrow afternoon to help him.”