Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I shrugged. “You have it.”
He started flipping through the screens and said, “Where’s the app that shows you your blood sugar?”
“It’s on the last page. In a folder, I think.” I shrugged.
“You think?” he asked. “Why isn’t this front and center on your phone screen so you can easily access it?”
“Because I can’t ignore it that way.” I rolled my eyes.
“You shouldn’t ignore it at all,” he said as he paused. “This one?”
He flipped my phone around for me to see and I said, “Yep.”
“It says it’s really low. You feel bad?”
I shrugged. “I feel like I always feel.”
He pulled over at the first gas station he saw, got out, and headed into the building.
I watched him move around the gas station.
He went to the freezer, pulled out something, then went to a middle aisle.
He then went to the checkout and came out moments later with a bag.
When he got into the Jeep, he handed it to me and said, “Get going on that food.”
I opened the bag and saw a Dr Pepper in there, as well as a Coke.
“Which one is mine?” I wondered.
“Whichever you don’t want will be mine. I like both,” he said as he backed out of the spot.
I watched as the muscles in his forearm flexed as he spun the wheel around.
Shit, even backing out of a parking lot, he was dead sexy.
I shivered and looked back toward the bag.
“I like both, too. Equally. Which one do you like better?” I questioned.
“Coke,” he answered.
I handed him the Coke and took the Dr Pepper. Taking a big swig of it, I placed it in the cup holder next to his drink and went looking through the bag again.
“How did you know that I liked Reese’s?” I wondered.
“I’ve been following you around for a month, and I can tell exactly what you do and don’t like,” he replied. “I know that when you go to the grocery store, your favorite thing to get is sushi and microwave Devour meals. I know when you go into the gas station you always come out with a Reese’s, even if you’re only running in there to pee.”
I flushed. “I like Reese’s a lot.”
His mouth quirked up. “I surmised.”
I ate the Reese’s first, then opened the bag of Muddy Buddies.
When I handed him the bag, he took a handful and shoved the entire handful into his mouth.
I watched him chew and smiled when little dots of powdered sugar stained his otherwise immaculate shirt.
“What’s with only blue jeans and black t-shirts?” I wondered. “You don’t have a dress code?”
“They try to enforce it on me, but I just don’t give a shit anymore. If anyone says anything, they know I’m two seconds away from quitting,” he grumbled.
“Why?” I asked as I took another much smaller handful of my favorite dessert and ate it.
“Because I don’t like being a cop anymore.” He shrugged. “I’m so fuckin’ tired of the criminal justice system. I don’t like the way it runs. I don’t like the way that politics play such a huge role. I don’t like seeing innocent children dying, and elderly getting taken advantage of. I don’t like the way we let the worst of the worst get out, meanwhile some guy that has a small-time marijuana charge gets the book thrown at him.”
He sounded so much like Shasha it hurt.
I wouldn’t point that out to him, though.
“Why do you ignore your sugars?” he asked again.
Damn, I’d been hoping he would forget that question.
“It’s a pain in my ass.” I shrugged. “I just want to be a normal person.”
“Mama, there’s no way you’ll ever be normal.” He shot me a look that made my knees quiver.
My blood sugar evened out, and the rest of the drive was spent with him asking me questions, and me answering.
Every time I tried to steer the conversation his way, he’d answer my question, and then volley one right back at me, which would have him adding more questions to the list to substantiate my explanation.
All too soon, we arrived at his daughter’s car, and I was left feeling bereft.
“I don’t know what I expected, but this definitely wasn’t it,” he said as he took everything in.
“A fancy pants hotel in the middle of nowhere?” I asked. “With what looks like a nudist infinity pool back there?”
“Exactly.” He pulled out a set of keys and said, “I would offer to let you drive her car, but I don’t want my ex to pull something and report it stolen, then you get arrested. That won’t look good to the brass.”
“It’s okay,” I said as I got into the driver’s side of the Jeep and started back home, my mind going back and forth about my day for hours.
At some point when we hit the Texas state line, I lost him, having gotten caught up by construction.