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)
No time for nonsense. Right. I can respect that.
What I don't expect is for her to steal the words right from my mouth. “Mia loves me. We get along perfect, and you need a nanny for this project. What's the deal, Marshal? Why the change of heart?”
I'm sitting on half a dozen excuses. I've read the whole litany through my head since I stepped into my morning shower – you're too young, work's delayed, change of plans – and now none of them seem right.
“Because you lied to me, Sadie.” I fold my arms, watching her eyes pop like marbles.
Fuck the Nice Guy act. It won't get us anywhere. I need to drive her out of here, quick and clean, without any lingering desire to return for more punishment.
“Look, it's not like that. If you mean Jackson, it never came up. Honest. I don't know why I'm supposed to dredge up bad blood.” She sits up straighter, hands clasped. Whatever I expected, it isn't a confession. “I don't know why it matters, Marshal, if I'm being honest. Your beef is with my brother, yeah? Not me.”
Goddamn, her logic. It bursts out like it's the simplest thing in the world, and that should be the end of it.
“Come the fuck on, Red. You thought it didn't matter? That I wouldn't raise an eyebrow over the fact you're Jackson Kelley's little sister?” I'm closer than I want to be to her face a few seconds later, glaring. A sick urge to put my lips on hers slices through my need to push her away. “This won't work. I can't have any trace of that asshole here. I've had enough dirty looks in this town to worry about.”
“I can't control what other people do. They're judgmental pricks. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not one of them.” Her voice doesn't skip a beat. Her jungle green eyes are wilder, giving as good as they get from my death glare.
Fucking hell. Why does nothing get through to her? I sigh, ripping the chair away next to her, sliding into the seat backwards. I lay my hands on the back, grip the wooden edges like I want to tear them off, and lean forward.
“You're not following me, Red. I said this isn't working out. You were good to me and I didn't mean it to go down like this. But I already told you, there's too damn many skeletons in the closet. I can't have you mixed up in my business. End of story.”
I'm still expecting hell. Daggers in her eyes, a few nasty words, even a crisp slap across the face. I'm used to being that kind of asshole – the kind who gets his way.
Then Red shocks my world for the second time this morning. Her fingers fall on mine.
Her touch is electric. Five soft, long little fingers on my huge paw, more innocent than they've got any business being.
Damn it all. Doesn't she know these hands have ended lives, pulling triggers and wiring up explosions to stop terrorist wolves who'd love to do a thousand times worse?
I want to keep dealing with the twenty-two year old who takes no shit. Not this soft-eyed, heart prodding girl with an angel's nerve. “I know Jackson started the fight. Wasn't hard to find the old articles. Whatever happened wasn't your fault, and this town hasn't been fair to you or Mia since. Let me make it up to you.”
“Fucker threw the first punch, yeah, but I was drunk. There was plenty of blame to go around,” I growl.
She's still staring, a gentle smile on her lips, never redder and more irresistible than they are right now. My cock awakens, quietly raging in my pants. How many levels of screwed up is it that I want to curse her out and bend her over this table simultaneously?
Also can't figure out what the fuck she means. I'm too busy trying to stop freezing up like a deer in the headlights. I clear my throat, but the words won't come, lost in her fingers curling around mine.
“Let me in, Marshal. Let me be your nanny. Just let me earn your trust, your money, your respect.” Lofty promises. Worst part is, she's absolutely serious. “Please. Give this a chance. How do we ever make things better if you've decided Castoff is who you really are?”
There's no sane answer. Frankly, I'm fucking done debating, and I just want her gone. I'll throw her over my shoulder and carry her out to the car if I need to.
I'm contemplating how best to do it when a small voice rings out behind me. “Daddy?”
I whip around and see Mia, standing there in her pajamas, big Whiskey rubbing at her feet. The cat lets out a timely squeak, ready to have his bowl refilled for breakfast. Her eyes light up when she sees Red. Ignoring me, she runs straight to her nanny, throwing her little arms around her.