Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I’m not pussy whipped,” Sean finally added. “I don’t even have pussy.”
We all let that digest for a few long moments before Tommy chimed in with, “That sounds pretty sad.”
“I thought you were into Tommy’s sister?”
That came from one of the prospects, and everyone around the fire pit tensed.
I looked at Tommy to gauge his reaction. Aaron looked at Sean.
And I chose to leave.
Ghost chose to follow me.
I had a destination in mind.
Ghost followed me because it was either stay and listen to drama between brothers, or listen to women…and I knew which one I would rather have.
I lifted my hand and grasped onto Verity’s pony tail, tipping her head backwards with a slight tug.
“You ready to go?” I asked.
She blinked, and then let her eyes drift over to Ghost.
“Yes,” she answered. “But I told the ladies that they could come over tomorrow so we could make cookies for the firefighters stew and auction tomorrow night.”
I looked over at Ghost, who shrugged.
We both knew that the ladies weren’t going to miss this stew and auction without a great bit of coercion on our part.
“About that…”
Chapter 16
When you’re feeling powerless, just remember one thing. A single one of your pubic hairs will shut down an entire restaurant.
-Fact of Life
Verity
I woke up early to cook the Motley Crew, also known as Sean (Seanshine I’d heard him called last night), Ghost (a scary man who was eerily quiet and rather intimidating), and my husband breakfast.
I was still fuming.
So, not only did he not feed me anything but cookies all night long, but he’d also given explicit orders that we were leaving for Colorado tomorrow afternoon, and we would miss the firefighters stew and auction.
Something that I’d gone to every year for the last five years. Something that I adored going to because it made me feel happy to see the excitement on the firefighters’ faces when they saw my donation check.
I’d just finished up with the last of the bacon and was cutting it into pieces to mix in with the scrambled eggs, when Truth came in.
He looked rough.
And not just the normal rough that he always looked, but an even rougher rough that made him look more caveman than man.
“Wow,” I said, eyeing his beard. “Did you at least brush your teeth?”
He bared said teeth at me, and I grinned.
Then frowned.
“Why do you smell like onions?” I asked him.
He took a seat at the kitchen table where all the food was laid out and frowned.
“After you went to bed last night, Sean went to grab us some burgers from The Warehouse. I ate two,” he said, poking the eggs with his finger. “I’m not hungry at all.”
The knife I was using to cut the bacon with hit the counter with a clash, causing him to look up.
“You what?” I said carefully, turning fully to look at him.
“I said, Sean grabbed us some burgers from The Warehouse,” he repeated, not understanding that he was in danger. “Ghost and Sean aren’t hungry either.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked. “And if you were to go out and get food, why would you not have at least offered to bring me some?”
“Because you were asleep?” he said slowly. Carefully.
I most certainly had not been asleep. In fact, I’d been watching TV when he’d come into our bedroom, and I had been meaning to ask him for hours why he smelled like onions, but I hadn’t wanted to wake him up.
Now, I realized, I shouldn’t have been so considerate. It was obvious that he wasn’t.
I gently picked up what was left of the bacon, and walked it over to the trashcan, before dumping it inside.
I’d already had a protein shake, and I’d only gone through the torture of making the most delicious smelling bacon in the world for his ass.
And now he said he didn’t want it.
Fucking wonderful.
“What the hell?” Truth asked, watching me reach for the eggs.
I took them and dumped them into the trash, too.
Eighteen eggs and twenty-five pieces of bacon, ruined.
My mother would’ve had a conniption.
And without another word, I walked out of the kitchen and to the bedroom, closing it quietly behind me before sitting on the bed and trying not to cry.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Me, Verity Ruthann Cassidy, no Verity Ruthann Reacher, crying over a goddamned hamburger, bacon and eggs?
I seriously needed to get a grip, but I couldn’t.
I continued to stay mad at him, even when he said the sweetest words I’d ever heard him say two hours later as he was preparing to leave me.
“If I only had one helmet, I would give it to you,” he told me.
I managed to hold a straight face, but just barely.
He left me with a peck on the cheek, and then he was gone.
I sat there, wondering whether I’d made a mistake.