Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure I trust you with a weapon. You’ll just have to use that feisty tongue of yours. Sure as hell would scare me off.”
Aw, he’s cute. And going to get it. “Don’t underestimate this mouth. I’ve been known to take men down.” A rumble fills my chest at the darkness that shadows his now seething gaze. That one blew up in his face. “What happens if Sheldon does the seeking first?”
Tate reaches for my hand and pulls it to his leg. “That ain’t gonna happen. We’re going off-grid. No phones, no Wi-Fi. Unless you’re given the exact coordinates, there’s no way to track us.” That gives me a small sense of relief. “We’ve got a few hours ahead of us. Why don’t you get some rest? Once we get into town, we’ll stop and pick up some supplies.”
“I doubt I can sleep right now. How long are we planning on staying there?”
“Until Sheldon is caught.”
As heavenly as being cooped up in a secluded cabin with Tate all to myself sounds, I hope they catch this maniac. “Cool. While we wait, maybe I’ll practice my feisty mouth skills on you. Make sure I can get the job done.” He squeezes my hand until I let out a small squeal. “Ouch! Okay, no practice on you—”
“Oh, I’m going to let you practice. And it’s only going to be on me. Anyone else gets a hole between the eyes.”
Wow. Not sure if that was scary or seriously freaking sexy. I look at the open road and wonder how good Tate is at driving while having sex. Instead of causing an accident, I divert. “Have you ever played the name game?”
“Say again?” He cocks his head.
“Name game. I say a name, then you say a first name that starts with the first letter of the last name. If you do a double letter, it comes back to me.”
He looks uninterested, but I start the game anyway. “I’ll go first. Taylor Swift—”
“Steven Tyler.”
For someone who looked less than pleased to play, he sure had his answer ready. “Tom Cruise—”
“Charles Manson.”
“Matt Damon.”
“Dwayne Johnson—”
“Jackie Chan!”
We go on for hours. I’m pretty sure I’m making up names by the end, but Tate doesn’t call me out. While trying to think of a name, I fall asleep. When I wake up, I’m surprised to find we’re pulling into a small gas station with a general store attached. “Wow. We’re already here? I can’t believe I slept that long.”
“You were tired.” He reaches over and wipes at the corner of my lip. “Got some drool.”
My lips part, and I slap his hand away. “I don’t drool.” God, tell me I wasn’t drooling.
“Don’t worry. The snoring was worse.”
My jaw drops as his lips curl. “I’m kidding. Come on. Let’s run inside and grab a few things.” He pats my thigh and jumps out. I quickly pull down the visor and look in the mirror, making sure I don’t have crust around my mouth. I wipe at the mascara smeared under my eyes and run my fingers through my hair. Definitely not looking my best, but I climb out anyway. Tate shoves the gas nozzle in the tank, and I shield my eyes from the sun as I take in our surroundings. Yep. Definitely the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?”
“A nowhere town on the border of Vermont.”
“Vermont? Jesus, how long did I sleep—days?”
“Close to it. We still have another forty minutes. If you need to use the bathroom, do it now.”
I salute him and head off toward the restrooms. Task complete, I go in search of necessities. Marshmallows, graham crackers, lots of chocolate. “Woo-hoo, score.” I grab the box of Lucky Charms. By the time I run into Tate, I’m juggling a bag of Doritos, two packages of Twizzlers, and a handful of Slim Jims. Tate, on the other hand, has eggs, bread, cheese, and some kind of meat.
“That’s what you call necessities?” he asks with humor in his tone.
“I mean, is it really camping if you don’t make s’mores?”
“And the Slim Jims?”
I shrug. “Used to be a huge Randy “Macho Man” Savage fan. What’d you get? Hmmm… nothing good. Can you hold this? I need to check out their liquor section.”
When you’re in the boonies, you get boonies options. After we check out, we carry our bags of necessities, one filled with moonshine and homemade hippy juice made of whiskey and more whiskey that came highly recommended by the cashier.
The last leg of the drive is nice. So many hilly roads hidden within beautiful forests. “I see why Vermont is called the ‘Green Mountain State,’” I say, basking in the robust trees and wildlife. “In middle school, this girl in my history class picked Vermont for a project. Learned more than I cared to.”
“What state did you pick?”
I face him. “New York, duh.” Shoving a Twizzler in my mouth, I stare at the breathtaking landscape. Kerry Ann also wasn’t kidding about the humidity.