Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
I may have wanted one… but I didn’t need one.
Saint stepped closer, overwhelming me with the same fresh scent I’d imprinted on during our first self-defense lesson. It made me dizzy with the effort not to actively sniff him like a dog.
“I’d like to take you to Dallas, Augie,” he said in a low voice. The rumble went straight to my dick like a traitor. “Please.”
I bit my teeth against the whimper that wanted to escape. “We’d be stuck there for hours. My mother never shuts up.”
“If it’s too late to come home, we can stay at my apartment in the city and drive back in the morning,” he suggested.
My knees began shaking. Did he have a one bedroom? Would we be forced to share a bed? Don’t be ridiculous, Augie. The man would put you on the sofa before sharing a bed with you.
“Augie?”
“Huh?” I sounded breathless even to my own ears.
“Can I call Sassy to come help?”
“Um…”
Saint’s hand came up as if to touch me. I stared at it, tracking every millimeter of movement with my eyes and accelerating heartbeat. When his fingers reached out to pluck a piece of lint off my shirt, I almost cried out my disappointment.
“No,” I said with a cough, shaking myself out of the daze I’d fallen into. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t appeal to men like this. And I didn’t have open crushes and flirtations. I had Katrina. And a hookup app if needed. “No, I’m fine. I’m not going to Dallas tonight. But thank you anyway for offering.”
I turned around to move the box of keys… somewhere. Anywhere, really. I simply needed to get away from the magnetic pull that was Saint Wilde.
“I’ll see you for our lesson tomorrow night,” I said over my shoulder. “Thanks for stopping by.”
I pretended not to see Saint’s expression of concern and disappointment. I pretended not to care that the man had wanted to use me to get to my wealthy family the same way people had been doing to me for years.
And as usual, I pretended I was fine. Until two hours later when I got a text from my mother.
Mother: Dinner tonight is nonnegotiable. I expect you to be here. And bring Melody’s old writing box with you.
I closed the shop early and made my way to Dallas, not realizing until I was halfway there that I’d forgotten the writing slope. It was a good thing I did though. During dinner at the restaurant, my car was broken into again in the parking garage attached to my grandfather’s office building.
When I came outside after the interminable dinner where Mom’s friend Merlina Giordano grilled me about the provenance of several small pieces of personal grooming items she’d bought at an auction, I discovered the smashed passenger-side window and the explosion of items that had been pulled from the overnight bag on the front seat. Nothing seemed to be missing except the box of old keys I’d brought from the shop to keep at home with the rest of my collection. Since I hadn’t paid for them, it wasn’t really a monetary loss, but it pissed me off nonetheless. What the fuck did someone want with a bunch of old metal keys? Was I just being harassed? If so, by whom?
As soon as the cops were done taking my statement so I could claim the damage on my insurance, I got my scaredy-cat ass in the car before speeding home to Hobie with the October wind freezing me into an ice cube through the broken window.
And I holed up in my attic nest without sleeping a wink all night.
Chapter 10
Saint
What the fuck had I been thinking?
Offering to take Augie to Dallas was the stupidest thing that had ever come out of my mouth. I was officially trying too hard to butt into business that was not my own while Augie was doing his best to make it clear my efforts were unwelcome.
So I’d nodded and left the shop with my tail between my legs. Unwilling to head back to the ranch with too much day left to think about my client, I took a detour to Twist to check in with Neckie. She’d called me earlier to ask if I could help cover some of her classes now that her pregnancy was taking its toll on her energy. I’d told her that wasn’t a problem, so I had a good excuse to stop by and find out if there was any way I could help her that afternoon and evening.
“Hey, Saint,” she said when I walked through the front doors of the studio. “I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow morning’s stretching class?”
“I was free, so I thought I’d stop and see if you needed any help this evening.”