Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“Grayson Marrow.” He pulls me against his muscular body and whispers against my ear, “But you can call me Daddy Neanderthal.”
I blink several times, wondering if he somehow knows, but his wink tells me he’s trying to flirt with me. Poor sucker has no idea how close that hit to the truth. His life is about to take a one-eighty. “Ha-ha.” I step away from him and notice the other man watching our exchange intently. He’s just as big and handsome as Grayson Marrow, but he doesn’t make my heart flutter or my lady bits tingle like Mr. Neanderthal does.
Luckily for me, the sheriff and ambulance arrive, interrupting the uncomfortable exchange. Dillon Armstrong walks over and smiles at me. “Carlie, are you out here causing trouble?” He might be joking, but Gray doesn’t find it funny at all.
“She’s the victim here,” he growls and steps between me and the sheriff. “After the accident, she passed out and threw up.” Sheriff Armstrong turns to me with a look of concern as Gray continues his medical assessment. “I want those fuckers to get over here and check her out.”
I roll my eyes as the thick testosterone fog envelops me. “Stop being a pain in the rear.” I glare at Gray before turning to the sheriff. “I don’t need to be checked out.” I make sure my tone of voice conveys how serious I am.
“Yes, you do.” The Neanderthal just won’t give up.
When I turn to blast him, Dillon cuts in. “Since you lost consciousness, we really need to check you out. Why don’t you go sit in the ambulance and let them have a look at you while I get Gray’s version of events.”
As I walk toward the ambulance, I hear Dillon Armstrong mutter, “Man, you have a lot to learn about dealing with the opposite sex. You have to handle them with care and understanding.”
“Fuck off.” Gray doesn’t seem to appreciate his advice.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I step up to the back of the ambulance and see Alan Sanders, a friend of mine from high school, is the paramedic who responded to the crash. “Hey, Carlie. We heard you passed out, so we need to see what’s going on. Hop up here and we’ll check you out.”
“I don’t need to be checked out.” Please, let him take my word for it. “And I didn’t really pass out.” Actually, I did, so I cross my fingers behind my back. But it was shock, not an injury that caused me to faint. “I just got woozy from skipping breakfast.” That’s not really true either. I tried to eat breakfast, but my little peanut had other plans in store for me and I ended up puking the light meal a few minutes after I ate it.
“We still need to make sure you’re not concussed or anything,” he insists and points at the white sheet on the stretcher. “It won’t take long.”
Hoping I can fudge my way through this, I take his hand and let him help me up into the ambulance. While Alan listens to my chest and back, I glance out to see Grayson Marrow staring intently at me. My dumb body reacts to his possessive glare. I take a deep breath, hoping to calm my funny heart rhythm, sweating palms, and increased respiratory rate before they’re evident to the paramedic. I sit back against the scratchy sheet and stare at the ambulance ceiling, fighting to get myself under control. I’m in so much trouble.
My new set of problems occupies my mind while Alan does his thing. This morning, I thought I was going to be raising my child alone. Now, I have to figure out how to tell the grouchy Neanderthal he’s about to become a father.
“I’m worried I’ll burst into flames if Coach Marrow stares at me any harder,” Alan grumbles. “In the hockey rink, that man is a freaking ice cube.” Coach? I’m still wondering what he means by calling Gray, Coach Morrow. “What did you do to make him so hot and bothered?” I’m pretty sure my scarlet cheeks answer the question for me. “Oh.” Alan’s cheeks turn bright red as he laughs. “Lucky girl.”
“Coach?” I pull my thoughts together enough to ask.
“He’s the Silver Spoon Falls Falcons’ head coach.” Fudgemuffin. When I decide to go bad, I go all the way. I picked a public figure that everyone knows.
“Oh.” I smile weakly and let Alan finish his assessment.
While he checks my pulse and oxygen saturation, I check my phone and see several messages from Ciara, my best friend.
Bestie
Are you okay?
Bestie
Hello!
Bestie
Answer me so I know you’re not dead.
Me
Stop being so melodramatic. I’m freaking fine.
Me
How did you hear already?
Bestie
Hello, you’re from this crazy town. You should know better than anyone how the grapevine works.
Me
That’s way fast. Even for the SSF grapevine. I just got into the accident fifteen minutes ago.