Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Then I saw the shiny brown hair waving a bit in the wind as I pulled in.
And I knew.
Before she even turned to look at me, I knew.
Lana.
The chick I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she’d walked through the doors the day before.
She climbed out as my engine cut, as I pulled off my helmet.
Fuck.
Of course she had to opt for a goddamn sundress. Like I hadn’t been fantasizing about her enough.
It was sleeveless and a little snug across the chest, but loosened up in the skirt. White, with greenery all over it, it had no right to be as sexy as it was. Not this early in the day. On my only recurring customer so far.
She gave me an unsure smile as she pushed her sunglasses to perch on top of her head.
“I guess I look a little overeager,” she said.
“Hey, as my first returning customer, I’m not going to complain,” I said as she fell into stride with me, waiting for me to open up. I held the door open for her to move inside, something that had her brows scrunching before she walked in.
Weird.
“So you had fun yesterday,” I said as I flicked on the lights.
“I did,” she agreed, looking around.
“Help yourself to some coffee while I get things powered up,” I invited.
A movement to the side had me turning to nod at Amos who had a different book in his hand as he walked in.
“Sorry I was late,” I said, wincing, getting a shrug from him. “I will get you a key eventually,” I added.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, shrugging it off, and I figured he used the extra couple of minutes to read. “Hey, baby girl,” he called as he walked past. “I’ll see you in there,” he added, then he was gone.
“Where did you find him?” Lana asked as she shot me a smile. “The pages of a romance novel or something?” she added, making a chuckle escape me. “Your coffee is amazing by the way,” she said. “Which, incidentally, I made sure to mention in my review,” she told me.
“Thanks for that,” I said, though I hadn’t seen that yet. I figured the reviews were going to be slow to trickle in at first.
“I know how important they are,” she said, shrugging it off. “And, really, this place is amazing. You put a lot of work into it.”
“Thanks,” I said, meaning it. “So, do you want to try a different gun today?” I asked.
“No. I’m going to stick with the same one,” she said, taking long chugs of her coffee.
“Just the hour?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” she agreed, reaching for her wallet, and pulling out the cash. “How much is the ammunition?” she asked.
“On me,” I said, cringing at myself. “As a thank you for the review,” I rushed to add. Not because I kind of want to tell Amos to fuck off for an hour, bend you over the table in the range, and fuck you until we are both unable to walk.
“But what if I said horrible things in the review?” she asked.
“Then you have to pay next time,” I said, getting a little laugh out of her, a rich, almost raspy sound that did not go right to my dick.
“Well, I better rush to change my review then,” she teased, passing me the cash, then taking the gun and ammunition.
Not trusting myself to follow her, I let her walk herself back there to shoot.
And tried not to watch her on the cameras, choosing instead to check out her review. That was, to put it lightly, glowing. Even if her public profile had a completely different name than she did. I might have found that odd, but I knew a lot of people who chose not to have a public online persona. Especially my fellow criminal friends.
It was only maybe thirty-five minutes before she was coming back out, giving me a smile as she passed the gun back across the counter to me.
“Thanks again,” she said.
“Why don’t you take a coffee for the road?” I offered.
“Listen, I am not the kind of person who is going to turn that down,” she warned.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I thought you would,” I said, waving toward the coffee.
Where she went, happily, before making her way to the door, stopping to look at the bulletin board.
“Hey, do you know if this place allows dogs? Specifically, an ancient, fat, lazy pug?” she asked.
Christ.
This was a terrible, awful fucking idea.
To even consider her for my rental house.
You know, the one all of fifty feet from my back door.
“Yeah, dogs are fine,” I said.
“Wait… is this yours?” she asked, brows going up.
“It is,” I agreed.
“Oh, wow. Okay. I might, ah, call you about it,” she said, taking a picture of the number, then heading out before I could say anything else.