Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
And then on top of that, we had a dine and dash group of kids who came in, ordered milkshakes and fries, and then when I went in the back to grab someone else’s order, just ran off. They were all wearing strange masks too for what they called an “early Halloween” party they were supposedly attending, so the cops said there’s little chance of catching them.
My tips were shit, and I spilled coffee and barbeque sauce on myself and went home smelling awful. If it weren’t for the fact that I absolutely need this job or I’m going to lose the house, I would have quit Cherry’s a long time ago.
But that’s what happens when your ex-husband gambles away your entire life savings and then runs away to Vegas with your best friend and leaves you with nothing but a mortgage.
I could sell the house, I guess, but this was my dream house, and why should that son of a bitch and his gambling habit ruin my dream?
I go downstairs and make my morning peanut butter and banana smoothie and am just about to go sit on the couch when I hear what sounds like a weedwhacker from out on the front lawn. I go to the kitchen window and look out and see Jake there, in shorts and a tank-top, weedwhacking my grass.
“What the hell…?”
He looks incredible. He’s really taking this male-model thing to a whole new level. He must have been at this for a while because he’s covered in sweat, which has the same effect on his muscles as oil does on bodybuilders when they go up on stage.
I already knew that he had great arms, but the tank-top he’s wearing shows off his impeccable chest as well. He is really well built. I wonder if he got this way from working out in the gym or from serving in the military—or maybe a combination of both.
Also, I wonder what he thinks he’s doing weedwhacking my lawn right now.
With my banana smoothie in hand, I step out the front door and call out to him.
“Jake! Hey, Jake!” But it’s no use. The sound of that little motor he’s wielding is far too loud for him to hear me. And he’s also got a pair of earmuffs on. So instead, I skip around the grass to get in front of him and wave my free arm like a maniac fan at a soccer game. “Jake! Hello!?”
After a few seconds, this finally gets his attention. He smiles and shuts off the little landscaping device.
“Good morning,” he says casually, like nothing is going on.
“Good morning?” I repeat. “That’s all you have to say?”
Jake shrugs. “Seems like a normal thing to say in the morning, don’t you think?”
I try not to smile. He’s playing with me. He knows exactly what I’m getting at, but he’s not going there with me.
He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and takes a breath, causing his chest to further grow in size. It’s enormous, taut with muscle and ready to burst out of his sweat-soaked tank-top.
“And this?” I ask, waving at the weedwhacking he’s done so far. “This is normal? To just landscape someone’s lawn without asking them?”
“Well, it needed doing,” Jake replies. “And you don’t have a husband. So I figured I’d do it for you. I didn’t think you’d be the type of gal who’d mind.”
I nearly gasp. “The type of gal who’d mind?” I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult, but after a moment’s thought, I decide to not allow myself to get offended this early in the morning by the man performing such a nice gesture for me.
“You know what? You’re right. I saw this video on the Internet once of this total Karen who got mad at a man for mowing her neighbor’s lawn for free. Have you ever seen that?”
Jake laughs. “No, I haven’t. Pretty funny?”
“Well, she says she’s going to call the police on the man,” I tell him. Jake’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head.
“Call the police for voluntarily mowing a woman’s lawn?”
“That’s right.” I nod. I reach into the pocket of my shorts and pretend to start dialing. “So I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call the police and report you for illegal weedwhacking.”
I glance up at Jake, who looks like he’s trying not to burst out laughing.
“Damn,” he chuckles. “You don’t want me whacking your weeds?”
“That’s right.” I shake my head. “Not without my permission. If you want to whack my weeds, you’re going to need to ask first. Understand?”
Even I’m having a hard time holding it together now. If we keep this up much longer, I’m going to be crying laughing.
Jake flashes me a thumbs up. “Roger that, Miss.”
I put my phone back in my pocket and try not to look back at him. But It’s hard not to stare. How is such an unbelievable specimen of a man standing on my lawn right now?