Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Red is bent over in the corner, scooping something off the floor. That long grey grandma dress she's wearing presses up against her ass cheeks, taunting the hard-on its been hell keeping down all morning.
This shit is too much.
I grab her around the waist. She spins around and gasps, clasping a thick medical textbook tight in her little hands, the object she was busy retrieving.
Our eyes lock for a long, fiery second before I let go.
“Do you mind?” she whispers, an edge in her voice.
“I do. Like to know exactly what's happening in my house. Everything cool here, or did you spill a whole library?” I nod toward several more books and scraps of papers strewn across the floor.
She steps away from me, sniffing, this time facing forward as she attacks the pile. “Clumsy me. My backpack ripped. I was fine picking it up like a normal human being before you barged in.”
All the books and printouts are about blood. Interesting. “You sure you're human? Seems like your studies would go over better in Transylvania than Nowhere, Iowa.”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. They catch the soft low winter sun seeping through the window, giving me a kaleidoscope of pretty green. “Somebody has to learn to stick veins if we want a functional medical system. Phlebotomists and lab techs are actually in pretty big demand around here with our aging population.”
“That so?” I lean in. An evil part of me adores how her breath sticks in her long ivory throat when I'm up close and personal. My voice drops an octave. “Just keep that shit away from Mia. She's real squeamish with blood and needles. You're welcome to read whatever when she's occupied.”
“Fine. It's only for a few more weeks, anyway. I'll have my certificate soon, and then I'll be able to go back to books I enjoy.”
My flicker of amusement fades. I don't need the reminder I'm dealing with a student.
Another risk. One more strike against having a reliable nanny.
My eyes stick to her while she turns, slips past me, and settles onto the sofa next to my little girl on the floor, opening her book. Sadie smiles down at the kid for a moment, who's trying to pronounce different animals' names. She looks at me and opens her plush lips. “I thought you had work?”
I hesitate, taking in the scene. I'm still trying to decide if this whole thing is a big fat stinking mistake. Maybe I should cut her loose by the end of the day.
There's a million reasons this is wrong.
But Mia's happy singsong melody, stuck in her own little world, doesn't lie. She likes her new babysitter. That's a huge plus. Almost so massive it negates the risk of her getting attached, which will be a bitch to deal with if Red leaves me high and dry.
“Another hour or so,” I finally tell her. “I'll be back in soon to square up your pay and talk hours for the rest of the week.”
Red smiles. I don't say anything as I walk past, pausing a second to reach down and ruffle little Mia's hair. She's so deep in the zone learning she barely notices.
That's the way I want it.
That's why I'm risking my own good judgment and Red's flippant anything-could-happen place in life.
That's how much I'm willing to put up with the subtle cock tease parading around my house, awakening a need for cold showers I haven't had for years.
This thing could blow up in my face. Hell, it probably will.
It could also be the break I've waited for. Nothing will shut up the ghosts in my head until they've had justice. I can't find the time unless something takes the pressure off Marshal, part-time machinist and full time single dad.
Marshal the killer operates best when he's alone.
“Come on, honeybee. Stretch out your arms, please.” Mia laughs and obeys, standing reasonably still while I bend down, sliding her jacket over her little arms. She'll ride with me to town first, then the mall. Now that the motorheads have picked up their bikes, I have a refurbished trolling motor to drop off and money to collect.
Behind me, Red clears her throat. It's the first time I've seen her getting antsy, but I can't really blame her.
“I almost forgot...” I stand up, pull my wallet, and dig through the mass of twenties I always keep tucked inside. “Six hours at seventeen bucks each. That comes out to...screw it, we'll just say a hundred and twenty. Fair?”
“Perfectly. Hope this means more tomorrow?” Her green eyes widen the instant her palm closes around the rumpled bills.
“Yeah. Except tomorrow I want you wearing jeans, Red.” I look her in the eye and lower my voice when I say it. Mia's too young to understand, but I don't want her picking up on anything if this gets dicey, and my new nanny won't listen. “I can't concentrate when you're dressed like that. Bad influence.”