Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“So, I’m Archie.” She dropped her arms. “Mom was livid at first. Then it got to be a joke, her giving him shit about it. But she admitted to me, she wanted him to have what he wanted. So once she calmed down, she was glad he got what he wanted, even if she wanted to name me Emilia.”
“You are so totally not an Emilia.”
Her expression was amused, but also nostalgic, and not the good kind.
“I like that I’m what he wanted, but also I’m her giving that to him. I remember that happening a lot, both ways, when she was with us.”
“Yeah,” he said softly.
She tipped her head to the side in that curious, flirty way he liked a fuckuva lot.
“Jagger? And I’ll just add for sake of time, Dutch?”
“My dad was a biker. My mom was and still is a biker babe.”
When he stopped speaking, she laughed, low and sultry, “I guess that’s enough said.” Her focus on him changed when she went on, “Though, I knew he was a biker. And not just because you’re walking in his footsteps. I go to his tombstone almost every time I visit Mom. And the epitaph there made it pretty clear.”
And again, he got that feeling in his throat and it was such a bitch, he couldn’t hold her gaze and fight it, so he turned his face away.
She put her hand on his chest and called, “Jagger?”
He cleared his throat, swallowed, and looked back to her.
“I bet he likes that.”
This head tip was not flirty.
It was concerned.
“You okay?”
He nodded and said, “We should go.”
“All right, boyfriend,” she murmured.
He didn’t know what this “boyfriend” business was about when they’d had two kisses and zero dates.
He just knew he liked it.
He took her hand, they paused outside her door so she could make sure it locked, and he noticed what he didn’t notice on the way up, such was his intent to get to her. The color-block flooring was up here too, but the tiles were smaller, and instead of the contrast color of yellow, it was orange.
There was also a lot of light from kickass sconces in the walls and two sunlights that were throwing late summer sun.
“Seems you’re a good landlord,” he noted, still holding her hand as he led her to the stairs.
“Place was a just-a-hint shy of a slum. Not purposefully. My grandparents just got old and lost track of it. When we got it, we took it in hand. Dad owns a security company. Because of that, he knows a lot of contractors. We got some castoffs, overages, stuff that was dinged and dented. He called in some favors, owed some more. Got the common places cleaned up and secured, new kitchens and baths in the units.”
They were shoving through the inner front door when he noted, “Better to charge more rent, I suppose.”
“Didn’t raise the rent.”
That caught his attention and he stopped and looked down at her before he pushed through the outer door.
“It wasn’t about regentrification,” she told him. “It was about safety and pride. This is a cool, old building. There’s history here. The tenants who lived here then, live here now, save one, in the unit I have. A couple of musicians. An older lady who’s been a schoolteacher for decades, she’s also an artist. This is their home. I didn’t want to take away their home. I just wanted to take care of them.”
“That’s cool, Archie.”
She grinned. “I know, Jagger.”
He squeezed her hand.
Then he pushed out and led her to his truck.
“Bummed you’re not on your bike,” she said when she saw it.
“You’re in a skirt,” he pointed out.
“So?” she asked.
Yeah, this girl, not conventional.
He beeped the locks, got her in, strolled around the grill and angled in himself.
He was about to start her up when Archie wrapped her fingers around his wrist.
He turned her way.
“I need to know something, and I need to share something. I’ll go first. Fast. Band-Aid. Then you go. Same way. Then we’re done. For now. Okay?”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
He still said, “Okay.”
“Car wreck.”
That was when he knew.
“Murdered.”
She made a noise that was little, but came from deep, and he felt it through every cell of his body.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Me too,” he replied.
They sat there, staring at each other in the cab of his truck, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist.
They tightened before she him let go.
He started up the truck and pulled out of his spot.
“We have parking in the back,” she shared. “It’s parallel, against the building, but it goes along the entirety of it and there are six spots, so two guest spots. Though one of my tenants doesn’t have a car, he bikes everywhere. In other words, usually, there are three spots for the taking. I have signs. Own that space. So I totally tow if anyone takes them that shouldn’t be there. If there’s a spot open, you can park back there from now on.”