Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Hey, Tristan—”
“You can call me Trist.”
My turn to crack a smile. “Trist,” I said, the name feeling familiar and new on my tongue. “You’re going to be alright. I’ve got you. I’m not letting anything happen to you, okay? That fucker may have gotten close before, but I wasn’t around for that. That is not happening again. I swear it.”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes looking for something in mine. I held his gaze, the space between us taking on a life of its own. Like invisible sparks suddenly ignited between us, popping against my nose, my face, my lips.
“I believe you,” he said. “And I’m really grateful you’re here.”
“I am, too,” I answered honestly as we got out of the car. I looked around the empty street, not seeing any suspicious cars or prying eyes. Crickets chirped from a bush on the pebbled path leading up to the front door, our shoes crunching over the rocks.
“What did you do before this? Before being a bodyguard-detective hybrid?”
I tapped the password into the keypad before answering, wanting to get indoors as quickly as possible. “I was in the Marines. On my way to becoming an officer until I got a really bad knee injury. It took me out. I could barely walk for months. Still gets locked up every now and then.”
“Damn, what happened?” Tristan asked as he rolled his suitcase through the silent home, decorated to be as basic and beige as possible.
“It’s actually, well, uh, it’s pretty embarrassing.”
He cocked his head, lips slanting into a smirk. “I love embarrassing stories. I’ll trade you one if you tell yours.”
“Deal,” I said, never having bargained for a life story before. “I was… getting ass shaking lessons and hit my knee against a chair, knocking it clean out of the socket. Had to get two surgeries to fix the damage.”
Tristan paused just as we reached the back door, his jaw cracked open, his chin practically on the floor. I chuckled, not surprised at his reaction.
“I’ve had knee problems all my life, so it’s not like ass shaking was the sole reason I had to be discharged from the Marines, but it played a big-ass part in it.”
It was Tristan’s turn to laugh. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I’m not laughing at your injury. I’m just trying to picture this brick wall of a man shaking his ass for the coin.”
“I don’t think you’d be laughing if you saw how good I’ve gotten at it.”
He arched a brow and crossed his arms. I realized I had walked directly into a trap.
A thirst trap, to be exact. The most dangerous kind.
“Show me, then,” he said, his smirk turning devilish.
I was about to say no. We had to keep going, had to get to the next Airbnb. But… it would make him smile. And that would be worth the minute or so of potential humiliation.
I turned, putting my hands up on the wall and arching my back a bit, pushing my ass out. I pressed my forehead against the wall and found myself smiling as I made my cheeks dance up and down, focusing on giving Tristan a damn show. His gasp told me all I needed to know as I kept going, using my hips to add a bit of swirl in there before I dropped down as far as my knees would let me.
Thankfully, I didn’t need help getting back up. Now, that would be embarrassing.
I turned around to Tristan slow-clapping, that smile wide on his face. “That was impressive. I’m a little hypnotized if I’m being honest.”
“I can get you even more hypnotized, but not because of my dance skills.” I gave Tristan a wink, leaving his jaw cracked open again as he took in what I said. I didn’t give him time to snap back, grabbing his suitcase and opening the door. “Come on, you can tell me your embarrassing story in the car.”
“Ah shit, that’s right. I forgot about that.”
“I didn’t,” I said, rolling the suitcase out into the yard. I shut the door behind us and led us through the well-maintained yard. We went over to the fence, where a latched exit was lit by a nearby streetlamp. I opened the gate, and we stepped out onto the street that surrounded the property.
The black town car I ordered waited for us exactly where he said he’d be. A quick glance up and down the street told me no one was around. I opened the door for Tristan and got in after him, thanking the driver as I settled in.
“Wait until you see this next place,” I said as we started to drive off.
“Better than this one?”
I gave him a guilty smile. “I splurged a little using the company card. Zane gave me the OK, though.”
“Oh Lord,” Tristan said, shaking his head. He fiddled with the silver chain around his neck, tucking it back under his black T-shirt. “Alright, so an embarrassing story… damn, I’ve got a few, actually. Hmm, let’s go with the time I tripped and fell face-first into Ryan Reynolds’ crotch.”