Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Her shoulder brushed my chest, and I had to grit my teeth as my body reacted to hers.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she said, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.
She had on a pair of jeans that looked like they’d been painted on.
There was no doubt in my mind that these were what were called ‘skinny’ jeans.
They landed on her hips just below her navel and molded to her body all the way down to her ankles.
The baggy shirt she’d gathered in a knot at her side did nothing to hide her voluptuous figure from me.
Her ass looked fantastic, and it took everything I had not to reach out and cup it to see if it was as soft and luscious as it looked.
Freya was definitely what I would call ‘curvy.’
There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t have some sort of curve to it. Her waist was the perfect hour glass, and her thighs looked like they’d feel awesome wrapped around my waist.
Her beautiful white blonde hair was up in a ponytail today, and the tips of her hair were tickling her bra line with each step she took.
The icing on the cake, however, were her cute little Converse sneakers in a shade of muted pink.
Not hot pink, but baby pink.
Her feet looked tiny in them, too.
She had the smallest feet I’d ever seen on a grown woman before.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said in answer to her earlier observation.
She gave me a droll look. “Of course you don’t,” she said. “You also don’t remember what came over you when you threatened that banker, either, do you?”
I shrugged unrepentantly.
The guy was a dick.
After hearing what was going on with Freya’s loans—and how the banker didn’t know how it happened—I’d lost patience and stopped being nice.
He deserved to be scared.
How he could just take someone’s livelihood away like that was beyond me.
He wasn’t God.
“Look at that, she didn’t even put him in a booster seat or anything. And he’s in the front seat,” Freya said without waiting for me to answer.
I looked up to find the woman just closing the door to the front seat where the kid was now sitting.
Instincts kicked in and I started walking her way.
“What are you doing?” Freya hissed at my back.
I ignored her and kept walking, coming to a stop next to the car that was parked next to the woman’s.
“Can I help you?” the woman spat.
“You can’t put him in the front seat. He’s too small, and you still have the airbag on,” I explained, pointing to the place where the key slipped into the dash, enabling you to turn the passenger air bag on or off.
The woman turned her glare on me.
“It’s not illegal,” she said, crossing her hands over her chest.
“It is if you have some place else to put him, such as the back fucking seat,” I said. “If you got in an accident, he could be killed. And I can’t, in good conscience, let you put him in the front seat like that.”
“Listen,” she said. “I don’t have a car seat, nor a booster. I don’t need one. He’s perfectly okay sitting exactly where he’s at. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to another McDonald’s to get my kid his apple pie.”
Then she got into her car and backed out without another word.
“He’ll be okay,” Freya assured me at my back.
“He may be okay. For now. But maybe not tomorrow,” I murmured.
“You don’t know that,” she said softly.
I did know that.
I witnessed it every day.
People were stupid, and when it came to their kids, they became more stupid.
They always thought they knew what was best for their children, and to be honest, most of the time that would be true.
However, this wasn’t one of those times, and I was going to let her know that.
But she left, peeling out of the parking lot without letting me finish.
“Fucking son of a bitch,” I growled, glaring at the car’s taillights.
Then, like any sane person would do if they knew a child were in danger, I called the cops.
At least the ones I knew, anyway.
“Seriously?” Freya asked, a smile working at the corner of her cheek.
I shrugged. “Shit happens.”
She rolled her eyes and walked to my bike with me.
When her hand brushed mine, I took it into mine before saying, “If you want to hold my hand, all you need to do is ask.”
I could feel her glare, but it didn’t stop the smile from tipping up the corners of my lips.
“So…,” she said when I mounted my bike.
She leaned against the door to her car, her hands pinned between the door and her ass.
“So…,” I urged, looking at my watch before turning my attention back to her.
She grimaced and turned, opening her car door and dropping into it.