Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I swallowed hard as I found another.
And another.
And another.
Seven in total.
All on his chest.
All forming bruises so big that they’d likely form into one large formation by tomorrow morning.
I blew out a shaky breath and finally lifted my eyes to his.
“You avoided answering my question,” I said softly. “So I had to come see for myself if what I was thinking was true.”
My eyes once again went to his bruises.
But there was one that was different than all the rest.
I reached out and barely grazed his skin with one finger.
“What happened to that one?” I asked.
That one just didn’t make sense in my head.
He backed up, turning to the side, and pulled a black object off of his mantle.
When he came back to the door, I saw a twisted piece of… stuff.
At first, it took me a few seconds to realize what it was.
Then it dawned on me.
I was looking at his phone that was also sporting a hole through it.
“What… how?” I asked in confusion.
“It was in my left front pocket on my vest,” he said softly.
Meaning, when Booth was shot eight times in the chest, one of those had taken out his phone before it’d buried itself in the Kevlar vest that had saved Booth’s life.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
I looked at the destroyed phone, then moved my eyes to Booth’s gaze, only to allow it to return to the phone.
“Booth, that could’ve been so bad,” I whispered.
His eyes met mine.
“I know.”
I blinked and looked away, taking a step back.
“I just had to know,” I said stiffly. “I felt like there was something…”
“Something that you needed to know?” he filled in the blank.
I jerked my head stiffly in the affirmative. “Yeah. Something that I had to know.” I swallowed. “Are you okay?”
He pressed his hand to his chest. “Sore.”
He gestured for me to follow him in, and I did.
When I got there, I closed the door behind me, only to turn around and see him shrugging a t-shirt on over his head.
A Kilgore SWAT one.
I swallowed hard.
I didn’t like the idea that he was hurting in any way.
More so, I didn’t like that I wanted to reach forward and yank his shirt up just to make sure.
“Where’s Asa?” I asked quietly.
“My dad and mom stopped by. He practically begged to go over there.” He sighed. “I’m just not as cool as my parents. Plus, after he got kicked off the bus…”
“He got kicked off the bus?” I squawked.
Booth’s amused eyes met mine, then he gestured for me to come farther into his house.
I held my breath as I took steps that would take me farther into Booth’s place than I’d ever been before.
Side note, I didn’t self-combust.
Though, it was a near thing.
Seeing his shoes discarded on the floor? Sexy.
Seeing a glass of half-finished beer on the kitchen table? Also sexy.
“Yeah,” he said as he walked into the kitchen.
Then there was the fact that his kitchen was sparkling clean. So, so sexy.
Even my kitchen wasn’t that clean.
And it was obvious that he did use it since there was a pot in the drying rack next to the sink, as well as a few spoons and forks in a coffee cup also next to the sink.
“Want some coffee?” he asked as he held out the half-filled coffee pot to me.
I licked my lips.
I really should say no.
I really, really should just turn around and leave right now.
I’d had a long ass day, and an even longer night.
This doing two jobs thing was absolutely killing me.
I mean, there wasn’t a person alive that could survive on the amount of sleep I’d been getting lately.
“Sure,” I said, even though I was going to regret it. “I’ll take one cup.”
He looked at me. “Are you sure?”
Who needed sleep, anyway?
“Yes, I’m sure,” I replied softly. “I take whatever sort of cream or milk you have until it’s no longer resembling coffee in any way, and two spoonfuls of sugar.”
He looked at me with amusement, but did as I said.
I leaned over and inspected the cup.
“More.” He added more. “More.” He continued pouring. “Almost,” I said, then announced, “Perfect!”
He looked at me with amusement, stirred my cup, and then handed it to me.
“Do you have a straw?” I asked.
He didn’t say a word, only looked at me with amusement as he fished out one of Asa’s straws—it was a twisty one that the drink had to travel through all of the hoops—and it was magnificent.
“Thanks.” I grinned.
He gestured me out toward the back porch.
“Come on,” he said softly.
Booth moved much more slowly than I’d ever seen him move before, and I realized only then that it was due to the shots he’d taken to the chest.
Eight shots in total.
To the chest.
Thank God he was wearing a bulletproof vest.
That could’ve been horrific.
He gestured to the glider big enough for two, and I gracefully—yeah, I was surprised, too—slid into it without once spilling any of my coffee.