Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t crossing the street!” I bite out. “I was standing on the sidewalk minding my own business!”
He bellows then.
“No, you weren’t! You were staring at your phone with no fucking clue about anything or anybody around you!”
I stare back at him, just as angry even as tears fill my eyes once more.
“Well, why don’t watch where you’re driving?” I scream right back. “What’s your problem, anyways?”
With that, I bend down to pick up my bags. But for some reason, I can’t get the straps onto my shoulders and the strange man bends to help me. We both straighten at the same time, and the breath catches in my throat because this is the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Those piercingly blue eyes are lined with thick, black lashes set below a stern, dark brow. His hair is jet black and that chiseled jaw is covered in a slight stubble, accentuating perfect, full lips, which are set in a tense line as he takes me in.
I can smell the stranger’s masculinity pulsing in the hot air, and I'm overcome by a sudden powerful urge to bury my face in that broad chest and feel his strong arms envelop me. What is wrong with me? How can I want to seek solace from a man who nearly just killed me? I need to get out of here stat because clearly, my brain’s addled from the heat.
“Are you okay?” the man asks in a gruff tone. He’s standing so close now that I can almost feel his body heat, and something inside my soul collapses. My shoulders sag and I start sobbing piteously.
“What's wrong?” the man asks, consternation on his face. “Did I do this?”
“No, it’s fine,” I blubber while reaching blindly for my bags again. “It’s totally fine. I’m fine.”
I make to turn and go, but a hand the size of a spade lands gently on my shoulder, making me jump. Yet the warmth and weight of it steadies me, even as it sends a wave of heat through my body.
“Let me get you a coffee,” the stranger suggests in his deep voice. “There's a place not far from here, and you look like you could use a beverage.” I shake my head.
“No, I’m fine,” I blubber again. “I don’t need coffee.”
But the man is persuasive.
“A lemonade then,” he says. “And trust me, I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Then, the man gently takes my bags from me, before turning to his car and depositing them in the trunk. I have half a mind to demand them back, except that now he’s holding the passenger door of the luxury vehicle open. To hell with it. What do I have to lose?
Through my tears, I stumble over to the passenger side and get in before he shuts the door.
“Thank you,” I mumble. He nods, and then closes the door before going around the vehicle and getting in on the driver’s side.
“There’s a coffee shop close by,” he rumbles. “With coffee and lemonade, not to mention milk shakes.”
That makes me giggle through my tears, although it comes out as more of a wet snort.
“What?” he growls.
“Do they have strawberry milk shakes?”
The handsome stranger merely smiles while we pull away from the curb.
“I don’t know, but we can ask,” he says in a deep voice. “Milk shakes always make me feel better.”
I sigh because this man seems normal, even if I just did a really stupid thing.
“You know, I always told my mom I’d never get in a car with a stranger, and yet here I am, and it’s actually her fault. Isn’t that ironic?”
The man says nothing for a moment as we drive silently through the neighborhood. Oh no, did I say too much already? My cheeks go hot as my soul curdles in my chest. God, I’m such a blabbermouth and the last thing this man wants is to hear about my troubles.
But somehow, even though he is a stranger, I feel strangely safe because deep in my heart, I know that he’s not the judgmental type. Not only that, but he could have thrown me into the trunk as part of an abduction, but here we are, going to get milk shakes instead.
I allow myself a glance sideways at the ropes of muscle in his arms, and the size of his hand on the steering wheel. Then, unable to help myself, I drop my gaze to his crotch, taking in the enormous bulge in his designer jeans. OMG, this man is packing a monster and I feel my body run hot as I squeeze my thighs together. Will I get a chance to see it? But then, I look quickly away, praying he didn’t notice because these thoughts are so inappropriate! What am I doing?
The man shoots a sideways grin at me and says, “I'm Ryder, by the way.”