Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Take me for a ride,” Cato hoots. “To the dance floor!”
Jax fights a smile as he tries to shake off his friend. As soon as his gaze meets mine in the mirror, his face burns crimson.
“Actually, man, I have to go. I’ll see you later.” Jax pulls away from Cato and presses a sweet kiss to his forehead. “It’s been a long night and I feel like I’m going to pay for this shit tomorrow morning.”
I scowl at my coffee, hungover as fuck this morning. My sister is chipper as she flits around the kitchen, banging pots around like she’s trying to give me a migraine on purpose. The scent of bacon makes up for it, though, and I try to tune out the noise, my mind drifting back to last night.
I’m such an asshole.
I just had to get involved.
Jax is clearly all fucking twisted up over Kian but is too chickenshit to do anything about it. Rather than giving him advice like a normal man, I had to use my dick sucking powers instead. If he was confused before, he’ll really be a mess now.
To top it off, I blew the guy my sister went on a date with. It’s not like it’s going anywhere anyway considering he’s not straight, but it was still low. I love my sister and that was fucked up.
Someone bangs on the door and I groan, waiting for Shelly to grab it. She’s preoccupied, and the knocking won’t stop, so I finally slide out of my chair to end the incessant rapping. I rolled out of bed this morning, throwing on a pair of sweats, before desperately seeking coffee. It’s probably bad business to answer the door half-dressed, but it’s not like we’re open anyway.
The knocking grows more intense as I near.
“Hold your fucking horses,” I grind out under my breath before flinging it open. “Can I help you?”
Jesus, fuck, it’s cold.
Arctic air rushes in, shooting pellets of ice pinging off my chest. I’m so stunned by the cold that I barely notice the man standing in front of me.
Sheriff Bell.
Goddammit.
Where I’m a hungover mess, he’s a picture of rugged perfection, dressed and all serious faced this morning. I wave him in, eager to stop the assault from the cold-ass weather. Slamming the door shut, I grunt and make my way into the dining room. He clears his throat behind me.
“Can we talk?” His voice is low. Ashamed. “Please?”
I scowl at him. The last thing I want to discuss before I’ve had my second cup of coffee is how much of a fucking mistake it was for me to blow him. “So talk,” I bite out like an asshole. “My coffee’s getting cold.”
His brows furl together, glancing briefly toward the kitchen, before settling back on me. “In private.”
I grab my coffee mug up and walk over to the window overlooking Wolffish Bay. “It’s just the two of us.” I shoot him a conspiratorial smile. “Like last night in that stall.”
He huffs, frowns, and then huffs again. Seemingly against his will, his dark eyes flit to my lips before he forces them away. To my chest. Quickly, he skims down my abs to my happy trail. He clears his throat and looks away.
“Geez, Dante,” Shelly shrieks from the doorway to the kitchen. “Put a damn shirt on before you scare away our guest.” Turning her Kincaid charm on, she prances over to Jax. “Good morning, handsome. It’s a surprise seeing you here.”
“I, uh,” he mumbles, not meeting her stare, “I have official business to discuss with your brother.”
She cocks her head to the side, studying him. “Is he in trouble?”
The snort that escapes me has Shelly rolling her eyes and Jax’s brow deepening.
“Trouble is my middle name,” I throw out at her.
“It’s Ivan, dumbass.” She rolls her eyes at me before regarding Jax. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Mr. Howe swears the place isn’t haunted.”
“It’s Chamber business,” Jax blurts out, finally finding his voice. “Just town stuff.”
Her eyes narrow and she bounces her penetrating stare between the both of us before throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Boys,” she gripes. “Settle in, Jax. I have enough bacon in there to feed an army. May as well stay. After breakfast, you guys can have your secret ‘no girls allowed’ club meeting without me.”
She storms off to the kitchen and Jax winces, his face cinched with guilt. Rather than letting him feel like shit, I throw him a bone.
“She’s not mad,” I reveal. “She’s dramatic.”
“I heard that,” Shelly hollers from the kitchen. “Jax, hon, how do you take your coffee?”
“Black is fine. Thanks, Shelly.”
I motion for him to have a seat and I sit back down in my chair across from his. “Your secret’s safe with me, Sheriff.”
His face burns bright again, but he clamps his mouth shut when Shelly walks into the room, a steaming mug in her hand. She sets it down before scampering off again.