Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
I sigh and rub my hands up and down my long sleeves, trying to generate some warmth. “Yes, I am here voluntarily. Yes, I feel safe. Yes, I just had the best sex of my life. You want to hear about that too, Sheriff?”
The tips of Luke’s ears get red and he crams his hat back on his head. “Sorry to disturb y’all tonight.”
I think that’s going to be the end of it but then headlights are sweeping across the porch before the sheriff can leave. That’s the nicest car in town and my heart sinks with the realization. I know who that belongs to.
Tristan.
That’s when it clicks. Someone called this in. In a small town, word must have gotten back to him. He must have finished early with his little blonde floozy. But after everything that’s happened with Striker, I can’t bring myself to care. In fact, I’m kind of glad he cheated. Because it’s everything I need to break this stupid engagement.
“Oh, thank God!” Tristan says as he takes the porch steps up. Somehow missing the broken one. That’s unfortunate. I’d love to see the man trip and knock out a few front teeth. He kept acting like he cared about me.
The front door swings open and I feel Striker’s hulking presence behind me. He’s giving me strength to face this rat even if he doesn’t realize it.
Sheriff Luke must feel the tension in the air because he plants his feet firmly on the porch. It’s nice to know he’s not leaving. I don’t trust Tristan not to pull something and blame Striker for it.
“Thank God for what?” I ask with a hand on my hip and I don’t bother hiding the ice in my tone.
“That you’re safe.” He takes a step toward me like he’s going to come hug me.
I take another step back, bumping into the solid wall of Striker’s bare chest. I don’t want Tristan’s hands anywhere on me. Not after what I’ve shared with Striker. He’s my man and we belong to each other. “Don’t come near me.”
“What are you talking about? We’re getting married tomorrow,” he says.
“No, we’re not. We’re never getting married.” My voice comes out calm and collected despite the anger building inside of me. He thought he could sleep with whoever he wanted and just show up at the church tomorrow. What’s wrong with this man?
Tristan glares at the sheriff. “Clearly, she’s not in her right mind. You have to remove her from the premises.”
Luke holds up his hands. “My interview with her suggests different. I can’t make her do anything, Tristan.”
“Well, she’s coming with me,” Tristan advances another step and reaches for my arm.
Instantly, Striker’s arms are around me. I’ve never felt so safe as when a low, menacing growl comes from his throat. He sounds feral and I think he’d do anything for me. “If you want to lose that arm, you reach for my woman again.”
I relax into his embrace. This man is my port in the storm, just like he said earlier. I can lean on him any time and know that he’ll be there for me.
“That was a threat, Sheriff!” Tristan says. He sounds like a whiny kid who isn’t getting his way.
Luke doesn’t flinch. “His place. His woman. I’d recommend you heed the warning.”
“You’re marrying me, you worthless whore!”
I feel the moment Striker’s rage is kindled. His body tightens at the same time he drops his arms from around me. A split second later, Tristan is on the porch with a steady stream of blood coming from his nose.
Striker leans close to him. “Stay the fuck away from my woman. You come near her again and I’ll bury you in the north pasture. Might even get the sheriff to help me drag your worthless body back there. Are you doing anything tomorrow, sheriff?”
“Reckon that depends on Tristan here,” Luke drawls.
Tristan quickly pushes to his feet and scurries to his car. The entire time, he’s muttering threats under his breath about how he’ll get his revenge and ruin the whole town for this.
The sheriff waits until he’s gone to mutter, “I hate bullies. Are y’all going to be alright here tonight?”
I ignore the sheriff and focus my attention on Striker who tells Luke, “Gonna be fine, sheriff. Thanks for hanging around.”
“You call me if he comes back. Don’t deal with it on your own. He’s the type that’ll try to wait until you’re alone with no witnesses then make it out like you were the aggressor.” Suddenly, I understand why the sheriff didn’t leave. He wasn’t worried about Striker’s temper. He was worried for Striker.
“Thank you,” I call as he retreats down the broken steps to his car.
I scowl down at my cowboy’s bloody hand. I can’t tell what’s his and what’s not. It’d better be all Tristan’s. “Let’s get this cleaned up in the house.”