Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
His words made me shiver even as my panties went damp. He was unafraid, unflinching, and uncompromising no matter how powerful his enemy.
Shaking off the thoughts, I turn off the lights and prepare to go find my ex-boyfriend’s dad. I need a warrior and Ryker Sullivan is the man for the job.
2
RYKER
“You need help with this?” I ask Lincoln as I stare at the box on the ground. It’s a swing set for his kids. I’m doubtful the hulking firefighter needs my help, but he’s my friend. Ever since I moved to Courage County a few months back, he’s made it his priority to befriend me.
“I promised you a beer after, didn’t I?” Lincoln turns his attention to his four-year-old son Leo who runs up to show him a flower. He bends down and talks to him about it, affirming that he did find the prettiest one in the yard.
Other than Colt and Brody that I work the ranch with, I don’t have friends. In fact, I’d probably stay out at the farm isolated all the time if it weren’t for Lincoln dragging me into town two or three times each week.
He gives the kids instructions on what their next find for the scavenger hunt should be while I open the box.
Linc has twins, a boy and a girl. Leo and Lyla. Seeing them makes me think of my son, Ian. I haven’t heard from him in about two years. He rarely talks to me. Despite my efforts to stay involved in his life after Melanie divorced me, he was far more interested in hanging out with his stepdad.
Still, I tried to forge a bond with him. Even after he told the courts that he didn’t want to see me as part of the custody arrangement, I reached out every few weeks. The only response was silence and I finally accepted that I won’t have the relationship with him that I want.
Shaking off the thoughts, I do a quick survey of the contents of the box. All the pieces are here. This is what I’m good at, taking things apart and putting them back together. It’s why I spend so much of my time restoring old planes and reselling them.
The money is nice but keeping myself busy is the real reward. The busier I stay, the less I think about the cold, dark cell. There’s only one thing that got me through hell, imagining the smile of the curvy woman who captured my heart. She probably doesn’t even remember my name.
In the two years since I’ve been home, I’ve checked up on her several times. But she always seems to be fine. Not that I ever talk to her or even do more than observe her for a day. But it’s enough to reassure me that she isn’t in danger.
It only takes me and Lincoln a couple of hours and a stop for gluten-free peanut butter sandwiches before we have the whole thing put together. We settle on the porch while the kids play, and he passes me a beer.
“What are you going to do about them?” I nod to Lyla who is fearlessly standing on top of the slide.
Linc has been a single dad since his kids were babies. He gets by with help from his father who watches the twins when he’s on shift. Problem is Old Man Teller fell and broke a hip last week. He’ll be moved from the Asheville hospital to the nearby retirement community while he completes his rehab. But he won’t be looking after two rambunctious kids for a while.
“On your butt, Lyla,” he calls to his girl who pouts but does as her dad said before sliding down. “I’m hiring a nanny. Already got a call out to an agency.”
Luna, my Rottweiler, nudges my good shoulder. I hold up my water bottle, letting her have a long guzzle. She’s a sweetheart that Linc hooked me up with. He claimed she was going to be put down if he couldn’t place her. I don’t know if that’s true or if he just wanted me to have the dog. Still, I can’t deny her presence soothes me like nothing else. She’s been my constant companion every day for months. My phone is filled with pictures of her silly antics.
“The show is soon. You sure you don’t want to come out?” Linc asks.
He’s going to some bar in Asheville and entering a dancing competition. I’m the only person he’s told, and he only mentioned it because he wanted me to get in on his act. He swore we’d take home the thousand-dollar prize if we did a routine together.
I made it clear that wasn’t my scene. There was a time when I could tear it up with the best of them. Maybe I’d have even been daring enough to take the stage and gyrate to the applause of horny women. But I’m not the same man I used to be.