Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
After getting ready to go, he started telling me that he’d found a job at the chemical plant in a different department from his dad.
He was doing something with the machines and I’d stop listening when he started to get too technical about what he would be doing.
When he’d finished explaining what he was going to be doing for the plant, I said, “Didn’t your brother try to get a job there for years and always get turned down?”
Bain tossed me an amused grin as he said, “Multiple times. You don’t remember? You were married to him at the time.”
I curled my lip up in disgust. “Don’t remind me.”
“Doesn’t negate the fact that you should know,” he goaded. “But yes, he’s tried multiple times to get a job there. I think he always tries to piggyback off of Mom or Dad, thinking that’ll get him somewhere. But it never works. Mom and Dad were the first ones to tell them that they needed to hire on merit, not a relation.”
“I agree,” she said. “What time will you get back?”
It was just about three in the morning and I was contemplating heading back to sleep for a couple of hours since for the first time in forever, I neither had to work, go to school, or study for school.
It was… refreshing.
And also kind of sad, because I had nothing to do until we got our practice off the ground.
I hadn’t planned on finding a job with another vet since I didn’t think it was fair to give them help and false hope and then take that help away the moment that I got my vet clinic opened.
“I’ll be there for about four hours. The shift he wants me to test out is an eleven-to-seven shift. I can already guarantee…” He touched me on the tip of my nose, dragged his pointer finger down the length of my face, across my lips, then down farther to my throat, then right between my naked chest before stopping. “That I won’t want to work that shift if it comes with you being here during regular sleeping hours.”
I snorted. “When I start this vet business, we’re going to be open twenty-four hours. We’re going to have an apartment on site that we can share. There’ll be no telling what kind of hours I may spend there.”
He moved until he could press a kiss to my nose, then stepped back as if he was worried I’d maul him.
Maybe he was right to be worried.
I could already feel a tingle starting in places that shouldn’t be named.
“I’ll be back,” he grumbled.
I moved to the kitchen and pulled out a set of keys from my junk drawer. “Use these. I’m sleeping in.”
He caught them midair, winked, then was gone.
I followed behind him, locked the door, then went to the shower.
All the while, I was wondering if this was what it felt like for normal people that didn’t have depression. Was it normal to be this happy? Was this what it felt like when you didn’t have to worry about anything? Because, if that was the case, I was really freakin’ jealous.”
• • •
The soft clink clink of a chain against wood had my eyes opening.
A smile was on my lips as I turned over, stared at the clock and blinked.
I’d been asleep for a half hour at most.
“What…”
I reached for my phone which was plugged in beside my bedside, then glanced at the display.
There was a text from Bain there waiting.
But it didn’t say what I expected it to.
Bain: Bad news. I’m gonna be here a lot longer than a couple of hours. Meet me for lunch around noon at Moe’s?
The clink-clink came again, and my heart started to race.
I licked my dry lips, blinked rapidly to clear my vision and silently rolled off my bed. I took my phone with me, stepped silently to the bat in the corner of the room and pressed 911 on my phone before placing the call.
The phone rang twice before it connected, but I didn’t say a word, not wanting to give it away to whoever was in my apartment that I was aware that he was there.
Or she.
Footsteps sounded. Slow and steady. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Shoving the phone into the waistband of my pants, I gripped the bat like my dad had taught me during my softball days.
Widening my stance and gripping the hardwood floor with my toes, I wiggled the bat and took a deep, steadying breath.
The door to my room creaked slightly and the footsteps I’d heard earlier stilled.
I fanned my fingers out, one by one, and held my breath.
I heard a hand sliding against the wall and I knew the light was about to be turned on.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then launched myself at the door.