Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Gabe grunted unintelligibly as his arm loosened, so I took that opportunity to put some distance between us.
He took the ensuing opportunity to hook a finger in the tan belt I had cinching my cute, muted-salmon shirtdress with the flouncy, short shirt so that distance wasn’t very distant.
Before I could protest, I noted movement out of the side of my eyes, looked to Luke and saw him crossing his arms on his wide chest, planting his feet apart, his gaze on us, an approving half-smile on his face.
What he approved of, I did not know.
What I approved of was that Luke was in all black: skintight compression shirt and lightweight joggers.
Nice.
“You got this?” Shaw asked.
“I got this,” Gabe answered.
“There’s nothing to get,” I put in.
“Later,” Shaw said and moved to the Denali.
Since he was out, I turned my attention to Gabe.
“There’s nothing to get,” I repeated.
“We’ll pay this guy a visit,” Gabe stated.
Oh no they would not.
“He said they were watching him,” I shared.
“Who’s watching him?”
Gah!
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “Like I said, Shaw drove to the rescue when I didn’t need a rescue before he could say. But he was scared to death, and whatever it is involves someone who means something to him, so you boys can’t blow into the Sun Valley Motor Lodge and get her shit in a sling.”
Gabe finally relaxed, letting my belt go, and then he said, “You’re cute when you sleep. You’re cute in that dress. And you’re cute when you’re trying to be a badass.”
Oh no he did not!
“I had the situation covered,” I snapped again. “And, you know, he’s a creep, but he’s ours, and it sounds like he’s in trouble. So maybe tell your team to come in cold next time so you don’t scare someone the Angels are probably gonna want to help. Because now we’re going to have to get fancy with it, possibly pull in Jinx or one of the girls, and who knows what will happen to Mr. Shithead or this person that matters to him in the meantime.”
Jinx and the girls were the informants/friends we had cheeseburgers with, by the way.
They were also sex workers.
At first, I wasn’t sure about that, because Jinx could be kind of abrasive.
But I learned she was the bees’ knees and so were all the girls.
“Am I going to be able to talk you into letting him deal with his own shit?” Gabe asked.
“No,” I answered.
He sighed.
Largely.
I had muffins to make but now was as good a time as any to get some things straight.
As such, I turned to Luke and requested, “Can you give us some privacy?”
He jerked up his chin and took a step back.
So, the guy was tall and one of his steps was two of mine.
He still didn’t go very far.
“Maybe another six or seven steps?” I suggested.
Luke didn’t move.
I rolled my eyes as extravagantly as I could.
When I stopped doing that, Luke’s half-smile was back.
So be it.
I switched my attention to the younger Stark.
“We need to talk about last night,” I declared.
“What about it?” he asked nonchalantly.
Yes, I said nonchalantly.
“You slept with me,” I reminded him.
He nodded. Once.
“I did,” he agreed.
“In nothing but your underwear.”
“Sleeping in jeans isn’t real comfortable.”
“Gabe!” I exclaimed heatedly.
But he just hooked me at the back of my neck, yanked me into his body, and…
Get this!
Slammed his mouth down on mine, kissed me hard, but dry, let me go and asked, “How many deliveries we doin’ tonight?”
I was still recovering from the kiss—no matter how dry it was, it was still thorough—so I was pretty proud of myself when I was able to say, “You are not my delivery driver.”
“Be at yours at five. Good?”
In case he was hard of hearing, I said it louder this time. “You are not my delivery driver!”
“Text me if you need me earlier,” he replied, then started sauntering to his Jeep.
Sauntering!
“Gabriel Stark!” I shouted after him.
He did his own jerking up of his chin before he swung in, Luke swung in, and they idled with me in their headlights.
I frowned at Gabe ferociously through his windshield.
He lifted a hand and stabbed a finger toward the back door of The Surf Club.
You have muffins to make, sweetie, Dreamer sing-songed.
You can deal with him later. Without an audience. Now, you can’t let your employers down and you’re already late, Logic counselled.
Damn.
I stomped to the door, unlocked it, then stomped through it, flipping the lights on to the staff room and closing and locking the door behind me.
Only then did I hear the Jeep motor out of the lot.
FOUR
PROTECTIVE
I was in a tizzy in the kitchen at SC.
Lucia, our head chef, had shown about half an hour ago to start prep on whatever works of art she was going to put on the menu that day (that said, she lugged in a bunch of stuff she’d already prepared at home—the woman was a machine!).