Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
A natural protector.
I wonder if something ever happened to me, if he would protect me too.
23
DANE
She’s too close.
Despite the size of my car, she’s too damn close. The soft smell of her floral perfume accents the air, making me hyperaware of her presence and reminding me of how she tastes, how she moans, and, the worst, how she feels.
All I can think about is tasting her again.
I want to lose myself in her body and never be found.
Having her work with me is officially the worst idea Coach has ever come up with, and obviously not for the reason he would think.
I need to get rid of her, but if I told him this wasn’t working out, she would feel the brunt of it. He would assume, like the rest of the temporary assistants I’ve fired, she did something wrong, but the only thing she’s done wrong is existing because her presence is too much.
My need and desire for her are all-consuming.
It’s all I think about.
I need to taste her one more time.
Maybe sending Molly away was a bad idea. No. She deserves it. She’s put up with my shit for years. She claims she owes me, and it’s the least she can do after I raised her. She claims I gave up my life to take care of her, but that’s the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard.
Sure, I had to make sacrifices, and yes, some things I did to keep her were not my finest moments, but in truth, Molly gave me a reason to live.
The guilt from my parents’ accident will live with me forever. My penance was making my life about her, and it still is about her.
The fact is, she’s been through hell. My father’s reckless drinking and driving not only resulted in the accident that killed our mother, but it nearly killed Molly too. Now, she’s left with survivor’s guilt, and that isn’t fair. She was an innocent child, and he took that innocence away from her.
My hands on the wheel grip tight enough that my knuckles have turned white.
“Everything okay over there?”
“Just fine.” I stare intently at the road ahead. My anger is still simmering on the surface; I need a distraction, or I’ll head into this interview with fire in my veins. That won’t bode well for the charity. “Where’s home?”
She fidgets in her seat. “Indiana. A small town. Doubt you’ve heard of it.”
“Try me.”
“Harbor Woods.”
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to place the name. Nope. Nothing. “Yeah, I never heard of it.”
“Told you.”
An awkward silence fills the air. Why is getting information out of her like pulling teeth? She’s closed off, and I don’t like it. You’re one to talk.
“You like working for the team?” Can I be any more cliché with my questions? At this point, I’m better off riding in silence, but for some reason, I can’t stop myself from asking her mundane questions. What the hell is wrong with me? You want to get to know her. I’m pathetic, that’s what.
“It’s fine.” She flicks the radio on loud enough to drown out my questions. Smooth.
I lower it. “Fine?”
She lets out a sigh. It might be dawning on her that I won’t back down easily. “Yeah, I guess. Some parts I like more than others.”
“And those parts are?”
Josephine glances out the window. “I like the marketing aspects. Don’t love the cleaning after smelly players.”
“We don’t all smell.”
She turns back to face me. “Yeah, you do.”
“Ouch.”
From the corner of my eye, it looks like she rolled her eyes at me, but I can’t be sure. “I never said you smelled bad.”
I tap the brakes and come to a stop at the light before glancing in her direction. “And how exactly do I smell, Hellfire?”
She shakes her head. “Not going there.”
We both go silent. The hum of the engine is the only sound present in the car. What is she thinking? She’s probably thinking she wishes I would stop asking her questions. Sorry, Hellfire, no such luck today. I’m on a roll.
“Tell me more about you.”
“Jeez.” She tilts her head back. “What is this, the inquisition? You already know the important things.”
“Come on, Hellfire, throw me a bone.”
“I already told you things about me. Such as my fear of spiders.”
My right hand leaves the wheel and runs through my hair. “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?”
“Would I be a hellfire if I did?”
She’s got me there, but she still won’t win this battle. “What’s your favorite color?”
She taps her left-hand fingers on the center console. “Blue.”
“Food?”
“You’re intolerable.” She lets out a deep sigh. “Fine, donuts. Happy?”
“No, what did you study in college?”
“Greek mythology,” she answers, her tone clearly annoyed.
“Seriously?”
She squirms in her seat. I wonder if she’s considering bailing on the ride. “Seriously.”
“No wonder you couldn’t find a job.”