Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I point towards the corner where I noticed discoloration from water running down the siding. “Gotta check ‘em.”
She reaches out and grabs my hand. “What happened?”
“This?” I flex my fingers, pulling at the scabs that are just starting to form. If I tell her the truth, she won’t be happy. Women don’t usually like hearing about fights. Except some of the club sluts that get off on the danger, but that’s not really my thing. “Renovation.”
“Renovation, huh? You’re into DIY?” She looks skeptical, and when she does, there's just a little twitch to her nose that's fucking adorable.
“Didn’t say I was good at it.”
She laughs, and it takes her from beautiful to a fucking angel, but it also loosens my tongue a little and makes me want to hear it again. “Come in, you should put something on that.”
I look down at my hands. The hands that were pounding the assholes who hurt Phoenix, and are now being held like they’re worth something. Like me hurting is important. “Just going to get ‘em dirty again.”
“All the more reason to make sure you’re patched up first and they don’t get infected.” She pulls me into the house and I follow like a puppy. “Sorry, the gutters are probably my fault. I’m still getting used to taking care of a house. You didn’t have to come by yourself.”
“It's no problem. I should have someone come by in the fall and clean them out for you, but I’m still getting used to the whole landlord thing.”
She smiles, her warm brown eyes sparkling. “Good. That makes me feel better, actually. We can figure it out together. Wait here, I’ll go get the first aid stuff.”
Fuuuck, there’s a lot I wouldn’t mind figuring out together with her, but I’m pretty sure Havoc would kill me if he knew the kinda shit I’m imagining as I watch her fine ass walk away. I sit down in the kitchen, looking around. “Where’s Mia?”
“She’s over at a friend’s house. I’m picking her up later,” Shelby calls.
Shelby comes back and pulls up a chair. She takes my hand, her soft skin so smooth against mine. Makes me feel like an ogre. And she's warm. So fucking warm. She pulls her lip between her teeth as she focuses, dabbing an antiseptic wipe across my cracked knuckles.
“I can do that,” I say quietly, without pulling my hand away.
She blinks and laughs again, like it actually didn’t occur to her. “Oh, right. Sorry, I’m so used to being in mom mode all the time. Mia, then Phoenix the other night, you. Does Havoc need anything while I’m at it?”
I’m sure he does, but I don’t feel like sharing right now. “Nah, just me.”
“Good. You know, it’s funny that I’ve been renting from you for the past year and we’ve never really met. I didn’t even know you were in the Screaming Eagles with Havoc, he just told me he had a friend that needed a renter.”
“And he just told me that he knew a family that needed a good deal and wasn’t worried about the house being outside the city, or a little dated.”
“Maybe he was trying to keep us apart,” she jokes.
I wait way too long to laugh, because I’m pretty fucking sure that was exactly what he did. “Nah.”
Not that I take it personally. I can see why he wants to protect her. Shelby is a pure soul, as Grandma woulda said. One of those people who can light up a room just by being in it. If I’d known her since she was a kid, like Havoc did, I’d probably be less interested in the way her tits sway under her shirt than I am right now.
But I didn’t. And I am.
When she pulls the wipe away, it's stained red. “That was a serious whack. I’m going to put some ointment on it. It doesn’t really burn, not like the stuff I remember from when I was a kid.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Hell yeah. Grandma had this little bottle of something in the bathroom cabinet that I swear was pure acid. Don’t worry, I cut my teeth on that shit, nothing you can do can hurt me.”
“Tough guy, huh? She was the one that lived here, right? The couple in the house behind here told me she grew the best tomatoes in the neighborhood. I think they’re a little disappointed that I’m not keeping up the tradition, but I don’t think being an expert gardener is in my future.”
I nod, fascinated by the feel of her fingers stroking my hands. She’s right, the ointment she has doesn’t sting, but she could be using that old bottle of orange shit and I still wouldn’t make a sound. “Yeah, she and my grandfather bought this place after they got married. Lived here the rest of her life. I was here a lot. Used to sleep in the little room across from the bathroom.”