Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
He turns from the window, running his hand along his jaw. “Oh.” He pauses and drops his hand. “Did I forget to mention that the wedding is in Vail?”
“Vail!” I shriek. “Vail, Colorado? I can’t go with you to Colorado! It’s halfway across the country!”
“So?” He shakes his head, the skin around his eyes creasing in amusement. “Philadelphia, Vail. What’s the difference? I still have to go to this wedding, I still need to bring a date and you still have a new dress to wear,” he says, pointing to the dress still hanging in the store carrier bag, the hanger hooked over the top of my closet door. “Where’s your suitcase?” he asks, walking over to the closet and opening the door.
“Hey!” I protest.
He ignores me and, spotting my rolling suitcase on the top shelf—the shelf I need to stand on top of a chair to reach—he makes an easy reach for it and pulls it down. And yes, I catch a glimpse of his rock-hard abs when his shirt rises. I don’t stand a chance here, do I?
“I’m a teacher, Boyd. I can’t just miss class to do you a favor.”
He drops the suitcase on my bed and shoots me a smugly satisfied look. “What kind of amateur do you think I am? I know you’re off on Monday for Columbus Day. I’ll have you home by dinner time on Monday, Cinderella.”
“I don’t have a plane ticket,” I say, waving my arms in exasperation. He makes everything sound so easy.
He unzips my suitcase and lays it open ready for me to fill. “You don’t need a ticket. Any other objections?”
“This is way bigger than the favor I owe you. Huge,” I add, holding my hands apart to indicate something big.
“Fine. So I owe you a favor. Feel free to make it sexual.”
“You wish,” I snap back. What am I, sixteen? Wait, did he just offer to have sex with me? Or is he teasing me? I don’t really get it. I sigh loudly and dramatically. “What time is our flight?” I ask, opening a dresser drawer under my television. I stop and glance over at him when he doesn’t respond. He raises one eyebrow and doesn’t say anything. “Oh,” I reply mockingly. “You have a private plane, don’t you? We’re taking your candy plane to Vail.”
“It’s not technically a candy plane, but I’ll suggest having it covered in gumdrops at the next board meeting I show up for. Any other objections?”
“This seems like an inappropriate use of company resources for a company you’re barely involved in and own a fraction of.” I’m just stalling now. Clearly I’m going to Vail.
“We really need to work on your flattery skills,” he deadpans as he moves closer, looking amused as he stops in front of me. “I pay a fee to use the jet. I can put you in touch with someone at the IRS if you want to verify everything is on the up and up.” Then he glances into the drawer I’ve opened and his lip twitches. “Do you need help packing?”
It’s my underwear drawer, because of course that’s the one I’ve left hanging open.
“Go away.” I stick my elbow in his ribs and force him to step back. “Sit on the couch and keep your hands to yourself,” I instruct, then follow him to the sofa and grab my Dating and Sex for Dummies books off the coffee table and shove them into my sock drawer while he laughs. “You’re making me miss my show,” I gripe as I toss things into the suitcase.
“Your show? You sound like you’re eighty.” He glances at the TV behind me then back to me. “Murder on Mason Lane,” he says. “It was the neighbor. She was committing Medicare fraud using the victim’s deceased wife’s information. He caught on so she killed him.”
I gasp. “You spoiler! You spoiling spoiler who spoils!” Then I shrug. “This is a new episode. You don’t even know that. It’s the daughter. She killed him. I’ve had her pegged since the first commercial break.”
“You’re cute.”
“Just you wait,” I tell him, very satisfied with myself. I’m really good at guessing whodunnit.
“Sorry, you murder nerd, I worked on this case two years ago. It’s the neighbor.”
“Really?” I drop my makeup bag into the suitcase and check to see if he’s teasing me.
“I swear. I’ll tell you all the good shit the show left out once we’re on the plane.”
I survey Boyd with interest. I do have a lot of questions. “I thought you were in cyber crimes, not murder.”
“Murder isn’t a department,” he replies, shaking his head at me.
“You know what I mean.”
“Most crimes have a cyber component to them these days. There’s always a cyber trail.”
Shit, that’s hot.
Twelve
Boyd
I get her into the car and to the airport without any more complaining about this weekend trip. I knew springing it on her at the last moment was the way to go. Once she’d had a few moments to mull it over and argue with me she was fine. If I’d given her all week to think about it she’d have been a nervous wreck and talked herself out of it.