Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
He frowned at her. “Come again?”
“I looked at a ton of places when I first came here. There were a few I could afford, but not one of them was this nice. Furnished, with new carpets, new paint, new appliances. You could be charging nearly triple what you’re charging me. I work days. I can’t pay what this place is worth.”
Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well, I like having you next door. And that’s worth a lot to me. To know you’re not gonna tear the place up again.”
“Again?”
He nodded. “Was a shit hole when I bought it last year. My 82 year old neighbor, Mrs. Conner, passed and her douchebag son rented it out to support his drug habit. Didn’t take care of the place, rented it to his dealer.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s all right, Slick. Doc parked his cruiser in my driveway every night for two weeks. Very bad for business. I’m sure the owner got a lot of angry phone calls from his lowlife tenant. Then when we’d softened him up, the owner and I had a sit down where I explained that my very good friend Officer Tanner would keep parking there. Often. And wouldn’t it just be better all the way around if he sold the place to me? Cheap?” Hayley giggled. “So I fixed it up, with help from the boys, and now I rent it so I can control who my neighbors are.”
Hayley smiled. “You’re in control of a lot things. Your kitchen is very….orderly.”
He laughed. “Well, that’s partly because I don’t actually cook in it, but yeah, I’ve lived too long in the army to just stop doing things the army way.”
“Like mowing the lawn at 6:30 am?”
“Like mowing the lawn at 6:30 am.”
“Thank you for that,” she told him. “But you really wouldn’t consider letting me do it?”
“Not gonna happen.”
“I’d still make you lunch on Sundays.”
“You’re definitely still making me lunch on Sundays. After I mow your lawn. And you’re not fat. I never said you were, so don’t go putting words in my mouth, Slick.”
“You said my butt was big.”
“I said your butt was big-ger, Slick. Which makes it nicer to look at when you’re leaning over tables.”
“Don’t look at my butt.”
“Don’t watch me mow the lawn.”
“I wasn’t watching!” she protested. “You wake me up at the crack of dawn every Sunday. I was making sure the machines hadn’t come alive like a Stephen King novel because no normal person is up that early!”
He smirked. “Nice to know you read more than romance novels.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh! You-”
“You’re supposed to be winning hearts and minds,” came Tex’s voice from behind Chris. “Not pissing her off more.”
“Go away,” Chris ordered.
Tex ignored his former lieutenant and looked at Slick. “Do you really have sweet tea? Like real sweet tea? Not iced tea with sweetener in it?”
Slick opened the screen door. “Yes. Come on.”
Tex breezed by Chris with a smirk and stepped inside the kitchen. Slick attempted to shut the screen door on Chris, but he shoved it open and followed his man inside. Both men took up residence in the tiny kitchen as she pulled out a glass and filled it with ice cubes from the freezer. She poured Tex a glass and he happily guzzled it down, pausing only to murmur, “Mint.” After he’d drained it, she poured him another and then produced a second glass from the fridge, with an amber brown liquid in it.
“What’s that?” Tex asked greedily.
She dangled it in front of him. “Syrup. I juiced one of the peaches.”
“Woman, you’re killing me,” Tex said and reached for the glass, pouring approximately a third of its contents into his glass and stirring it with his finger.
As he drank, he spied a novel on the counter and picked it up.
“Hey now!” Hayley said trying to get it back from him, but Tex held it out of her reach.
“The Duke’s Kiss,” he read the title then grimaced at the cover. “Probably half the book is him getting her outta that getup.”
“Probably,” Chris agreed.
“Hmm,” Tex added thoughtfully. “That’s why I don’t let ‘em wear clothes. Time saver.”
Slick squeaked in surprise. “You’re not serious.”
Tex grinned down at her. “I might be.”
“Tex,” Chris warned. “She’s not your type.”
Tex sighed and put the tea and the book down. “Sad, but true,” he agreed. “Wish I could settle for sweet tea and peach pie, darlin’. You’d be a fine one to own.”
Her mouth dropped open. “To own?”
Tex ignored her. “So how ‘bout that chocolate cake? Thursday night?”
She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Awesome,” he said, pushing off the counter. “High time I’m not the only one cooking for this bunch of bastards.”
“You cook?” she asked, dazed.
“Best ribs in all of South Dakota,” Tex boasted.
Slick considered this. “I make ribs.”
Tex’s eyes narrowed at her. “You challengin’ me?”