Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
"Oh, you need me?" she asks, looking up at me, her hand on her forehead blocking out the sun. "It’s a good thing I didn’t go inside." She turns on her boots and walks toward the truck, opening the back door and grabbing the T-shirt Quinn lent me.
"I said a rag," I say, and she tosses me the shirt.
"Are you going to actually wear that shirt again?" she asks me.
"No, but I was going to give it back to him,” I inform her, holding the shirt in my hand.
"Trust me, he doesn’t want it back," she says, putting one boot on the last step of the ladder. "No way he can ever wear that shirt. He’ll look like a skinny boy in it."
I look down at her. "You were checking me out?" I joke with her.
"Everyone and their mother was checking you out," she says. "Even the guys checked out your package."
"It wasn’t that bad," I say, and I know it was that bad because I had to pull the seam out of my balls at least ten times. I use the shirt to unscrew the light bulb. I’m about to go down when I feel her stepping on the second step stretching her hand up with the new light.
"Here, take this and give me the old one," she says. We exchange the bulbs and I screw in the new one.
I walk down the ladder and look at her. "You can’t just let someone do something for you." I don’t know if I’m so much as asking her as if I’m telling her.
"It’s not that I can’t let anyone do anything for me," she says, putting the broken light away. "If I can help, why wouldn’t I?" She grabs the new bulb as I move the ladder over to the other light. Going up and seeing that this one, too, has been busted, I take out my phone and take a picture of it before I take it out and replace it.
"You want to go inside and open the lights and see if they work?" I ask as some trucks arrive. The sound of gravel making me look toward the trucks.
I grab my phone and send the text to Jacob.
Me: Just changed the lights and they were both busted with rocks.
I press send and look up when I see a couple of guys from the barn. "Hey.” I nod to a couple of them.
"You coming to have a beer with us?” Elliot, one of the foremen, asks me. "My treat."
"Yeah, I’ll be right in," I say, putting the ladder in the back of my truck.
The phone pings in my pocket and I take it out to see it’s a text from Jacob.
Jacob: We are installing cameras tomorrow. She will just have to deal with it.
I shake my head and answer him back.
Me: Good luck with that.
I put my phone away and walk into the bar. I see that it’s quieter than it was yesterday. I spot Amelia in back of the bar as she is pouring a beer in a glass. Walking to the back I go to the bathroom and wash my hands.
"You should go and get a motel room," my head tells me when I look at my reflection.
Drying my hands, I don’t look at myself in the mirror before I walk out. I join the guys at the bar and sit on the empty stool. "What can I get you?" Amelia asks when she comes to me.
"I don’t know. If I ask for a beer, will you put something inside it?" I ask, and she throws her head back and laughs. Her neck is bare, and I close my eyes and picture myself biting her and leaving my mark. My cock springs to action wanting in on the picture.
She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she walks down to the beer taps as she fills a glass for me. She puts a coaster down and places the beer on it. "There you go," she says and smiles. "It’s safe to drink." She turns and walks away, and I want to ask her to come back and talk to me.
Instead, I just take the beer and take a sip. The guys finish their beer and head out to their house. I am the only one at the bar. "It really is quiet on Tuesday," I say, and she nods her head, as she wipes down the bar where the guys left. I look over seeing that it’s almost nine o’clock and the bar is empty.
"Why do you do it?" I finally ask her the question I’ve been thinking about all day. My thumb is hitting the top of the wooden bar.
"Why do I do what?" she asks, looking at me.
"Work the two jobs." She looks at me.
"Well, for one, I have bills," she says. "And I’m paying my aunt monthly to own this."