Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
But today, the second I come out of the bathroom, I find her already fumbling around in the predawn darkness looking for clothes to wear.
“What are you doing?” I watch my wife with a deep frown.
She squints back at me. “Getting dressed. What are you doing?”
“Going to work.”
“I was thinking—” She stumbles and nearly goes over as she tugs on a pair of jeans. “You’re away all day and I’m stuck here, bored out of my mind. What if I came with you to the depot?”
I stare at her. She steadies herself and stares back. Her tits are barely covered by a pale white bra, which is extremely goddamn distracting. She notices me looking and quickly turns her back, which is only marginally better. The girl’s got a magnificent back.
“Why would anyone willingly come to the depot?”
She shrugs a little as she pulls on a simple black top. “Since our families are going to be working together, I was thinking I could get a feel for your operations.”
“That’s not how our alliance is going to work.”
“Maybe it’s how our marriage is going to work instead?”
“Not happening.” I tug on pants and a Henley, stained and frayed from years of wear, and pull the sleeves over my forearms. She’s staring at my shoulders and licking her lips slightly.
“Definitely happening.”
I shove a gun into my waistband and head downstairs. Charlie follows like a puppy. I do my best to ignore her as I go about my usual routine: banana for breakfast, dark black coffee in a huge travel mug, and a protein shake.
She sticks to coffee, frowning as she watches like a fucking hawk.
“You know breakfast isn’t actually that good for you, right? Primes your metabolism all the wrong ways.”
“I’ve survived this long.”
“But you’re getting older.” She presses her lips together. “And you’re healing.”
“That’s why I have the protein.” I glare at her as I grab my keys. “I don’t need nutrition tips from you.”
“Sure about that? I bet I could make you feel five years younger.”
I rub the small of my back. My knees ache and my nose is throbbing. “Doubt leafy fucking greens are going to help with the amount of damage I’ve taken over the years.”
“You’d be surprised. Kale’s incredible.”
“I thought the world moved on from kale.”
“The world did, but I’m stuck in my ways.”
She follows me outside. I’m tempted to snap at her and make her stay behind, but something makes me hold my tongue. It’s the way she’s walking close, like she’s inches from reaching out and touching me, and maybe it’s the kiss we shared last night after the fight. I keep thinking about her lips, about the way I fucked up and broke my promise. That little, mistaken touch, my hand brushing hers, it’s weighing on me. I’m better than that.
But maybe not. Charlie’s just going to be in the way at the depot and I’m absolutely sure I’m going to catch shit from the other guys if I let my wife tag along. I should make her get back in the house.
I don’t say a word. Instead, she climbs into the truck beside me, and we don’t talk as I make the familiar drive.
She’s got this annoying habit. I don’t think she even knows she’s doing it. Whenever she’s in a car, she fucking hums. And not just some tuneless, noiseless bullshit. But an actual song. One specific song.
I’m Still Standing by Elton John.
I had to look it up. Took me like an hour to figure it out. Apparently, it was featured in some children’s animated movie a few years back or some shit like that.
I’m at the point where I actually like the sound of her humming that dumb song.
Any other person and I’d be biting their head off by now.
Charlie gets away with it.
Just like she gets to climb into my truck, follow me to work, watch my fights, tend to my wounds, kiss me, sleep in my bed, make me hurt every time she’s close.
“This is the big scary depot, huh?” She frowns out the window as we pull into the lot. Tall chain-link fences are covered by curling barbed wire. There are rocks and weeds all over the place. “Needs some work.”
“It’s a building for trucks.” I kill the engine and turn to her. “Listen to me. I let you tag along—”
“You didn’t let me. I firmly insisted.”
“—Now you need to follow some rules.”
Her eyebrows raise and she gives me a coy smirk. “You know I love a good rule.”
I choose not to take that bait.
“You can’t wander off. There’s a lot of shit going on and some of it you’re not supposed to see.”
“Like what?” she purrs, leaning closer.
“Like fucking drugs. You know that already. Stick to the main floor and the back offices. When you’re bored, I’ll take you back home.”