Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Clearing my throat, I glance at North, who looks on avidly.
“Butter,” he says.
I envision nut punching him.
Delilah frowns his way. “Pardon?”
He becomes the picture of innocence as he grabs another cookie. “I was wondering if you used butter in these.”
Her gaze darts between North and me. I will kill him if he lets on what he really meant. I keep my expression neutral and sweat it out.
She stares at me for a beat; then her gaze turns cheeky. “I used clarified butter.”
With a groan, I run a hand over my face. “All right. I surrender. You’re the greatest chef on earth, and nothing you cook or bake ever sucks. Now can I please have a cookie?”
“Hmmm . . .” She pretends to ponder the question. “Nope. I don’t think so.”
“What!”
“You’re right. These aren’t healthy enough for you. Whew, you really dodged a bullet there, Con Man.” Quick as a blink, she reaches out and ruffles my hair. The unexpected physical contact distracts me enough for her to scamper off, cackling like a witch.
“Delilah Ann Baker,” I shout after her. “You’re going to pay for that!”
Mad cackles are the only reply.
Silence rings out, and I remember North.
His expression is smug but sympathetic. “You’re right. You’re in trouble.”
Delilah
It pisses me off to no end that a twinge of guilt nips at my belly when North asks if I want to drive with him to Beverly Hills. Macon had no business trying to order me away from North. And I need to go; Karen has demanded that I pick up a few scripts for Macon from her office. She doesn’t trust it to couriers or sending via email. I might as well have been asked to pick up the Ark of the Covenant.
Since North has a bit of an Indiana Jones flare about him, I figure he’s a good escort.
“Okay.” I grab my purse from the hooks by the side door. “But I’m driving.”
North halts. “I’m the driver. It’s in my employee contract.”
“Since you’re not carting around our employer, your point is moot.”
North crosses his arms over his chest, an unmovable mountain. “I am a trained stunt driver.”
“That’s nice. I’m sure you do a great job on stunts.”
Pulling out my keys, I head for my beloved MINI Clubman that’s been sitting idle and ignored in the driveway. North follows in a huff, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder. “Are you going to whine about this?”
He puts a hand to his chest as if affronted. “I never whine.”
“Good. Get in the car.”
I hop into the driver’s seat and run a hand over the steering wheel. “Hey, baby. Mama’s back.”
North gives me an amused look as he shuts the passenger door. “You going to talk to the car the whole time? If so, I might actually start whining.”
With a laugh, I turn the car on, and we head out. It isn’t until we’re driving down the highway that I talk again. “Until now, you seemed to be a fairly laid-back guy. Does it really bother you so much that a woman is driving?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns his attention to the blue streak of the ocean just outside his window. “Saint will have a fit,” he mutters.
“Macon? Why, because we’re running errands together? Tough shit.” Okay, I’m still grumpy and still feeling guilty, damn it.
North casts an amused smile my way. “Why would he care if we’re running errands?”
I wisely refrain from illuminating North. “You tell me.”
The big man glances out the window as if he’s contemplating jumping out of the speeding car. With his credentials, he’d probably do a graceful roll, then dust himself off before walking to Beverly Hills.
“The accident,” North bites out. “It’s made him . . . cautious.”
It’s clear North feels he’s sold out Macon’s privacy by admitting this. And I don’t blame Macon for having certain fears about driving. If I’d careened down an embankment and gotten wrapped around a tree, I probably wouldn’t get in a car for months.
North’s voice is subdued. “He told me to drive you anywhere you needed to go, whatever the case.”
The car hums along the road as I grip the wheel and think.
“That’s why you asked if I wanted to come with you to Beverly Hills. You knew Karen wanted me to pick up the scripts.”
“I’m meeting a colleague in the same building,” he protests before his shoulders slump. “But yes, that was the motivating factor.”
“And here I thought you enjoyed my company.” A thick silence is my answer, and I can all but hear him wincing. With wide eyes, I glance at North. “Oh my God, you got the lecture, too, didn’t you?”
His smile is wry. “The ‘if you so much as look sideways at Delilah, I’ll break your legs’ lecture? Yes.”
A shocked laugh bursts out. “Mine wasn’t quite so violent. More of an irate warning.” My lips purse. “That arrogant . . . pain in my butt. I can’t believe him.”