Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
I don't ask how he knows my name. Everyone in Silver Spoon Falls knows everyone. Besides, my name is written across the front of my store since I opened it a few months ago.
"I didn't know the door was unlocked," I mutter under my breath, reaching behind my back for the door handle. At this point, I'm fairly sure he isn't here to hurt me, but he's being bossy and rude, so I'm not feeling particularly benevolent. As soon as my hand closes on the door handle, I yank it open. "Kieve, tar anseo!"
Kieve barks once and then comes flying through the door like a streak of lightning. He rushes straight for the sexy giant. My intruder jumps back a step as Kieve jumps around his feet, barking and growling like the wicked little beast he is.
"What the fuck?"
"Told you I wasn't alone."
"Call him off," he growls at me.
"Not until you leave."
"I'm definitely killing Cormac for this shit. He did not warn me you have a fucking guard dog." He bends down to scoop my Chihuahua up into his arms. "Stad!"
Kieve, the little traitor, immediately stops going crazy and settles down, his tongue lolling out.
I gape at him and the giant, my stomach sinking. He's Callum Carmichael, my new bodyguard? Please, no. "Cormac sent you?"
"Yep," he says, dashing my hopes all to pieces. His wild eyes roll over me. "Why don't you get dressed, and then we'll talk, Firefly?"
"Hope," I correct.
His lips curve upward. "Whatever you say, sweet Hope."
I narrow my eyes on him. "Can you at least turn around and stop staring at me?"
"Why? I've seen the show now." Those wild eyes rake down my body again. Heat courses through me, staining my cheeks red. "And goddamn, Firefly. I'll be replaying it often."
"Oh, my God!" I stomp toward my tote, snatch it off the hook, and then flee to the privacy of the bathroom to change, which is what I was trying to do in the first place. I spilled coffee all over myself on my way in this morning because Kieve decided he wanted to chase a squirrel up a tree.
He never got the memo that he isn't a guard dog. I guess he thinks his police academy letter got lost in the mail. He's been extra vigilant since someone ran us off the road a couple of days ago. He trusts nothing and no one who isn't me. Except, apparently, Callum Carmichael.
I slam the bathroom door behind me, muttering under my breath about my traitor dog and Callum. The man is infuriating! And infuriatingly hot. There's no way I'm going to survive living with this man until Dillon Armstrong figures out who wants to destroy me and my business!
"You don't have a choice," I mutter to myself in the mirror, unzipping my tote bag to pull out the extra set of clothes I always leave here in case of emergencies. "Someone is trying to kill you."
The grim reminder sends a chill up my spine. I quickly yank my bra out of the bag and slip it on before yanking a sweater on over my head. It takes a minute to shimmy into the jeans. I think they shrank.
"Or my hips grew," I huff, out of breath by the time I get them on. Maybe it's time to stop sneaking next door to the coffee shop for breakfast every morning. The scones are addictive.
I fluff my hair, shove my coffee-stained clothes into the bag to take home to wash, and then slip my feet back into my ballet flats. My cheeks are still pink when I slip back out into the stockroom to face Callum.
I find him leaning against the wall with Kieve sitting at attention at his feet.
"Kieve, imigh leat," I murmur, pointing toward the front of the shop.
"He's well trained," Callum observes when Kieve immediately hops up and races toward the front of the shop.
I snort. "He's an adorable little terrorist is what he is."
"Chihuahuas usually are."
I drop the tote beside the packing station in the center of the room and then turn the face Callum, trying hard not to think about the fact that he's already seen me naked. "Um, so you're Callum Carmichael."
"And you're Hope Byrne." His eyes do a slow drift over me, his gaze no less hotter than it was when I was mostly naked. "You never did answer my question, Firefly. Why the fuck are you running around your shop naked with your front door unlocked?"
"Okay, clearly we need to get a few things straight." I cross my arms to hide my boobs from his gaze. "First of all, I thought the door was locked. Secondly, I wasn't running around my shop naked. I stepped out of the bathroom to grab my bag so I could change. You're the one who decided you could just waltz right back here like you own the place—you don't, by the way. Third, I don't work for you. You don't get to bark questions at me like some hot drill sergeant and expect me to answer. This relationship will go a whole lot better if you get that through your thick head now. Fourth, stop calling me Firefly. My name is Hope."