Flash Point Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Kilgore Fire, #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Kilgore Fire Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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Even if, after time, he annoyed the shit out of me!

“I know, mom. I’ll be there in just a few,” I said, turning my head to look out my window when I stopped at the stop light that would be the last one before the turn to my parents’ house.

I quickly turned away when I saw Booth there on his motorcycle.

The same motorcycle that he’d taken me for my first ride on…the same one that we’d made out on for countless amounts of hours.

The same one that his wife now rode on.

I guess I should be happy that she wasn’t on it with him, or I might’ve been crying when I got to my parents.

I slammed my hand down on the steering wheel, pissed off that he had that kind of effect on me.

He didn’t even look over at me, even though I knew he was aware of me.

It was hard to miss the ratty yellow jeep that sounded like the muffler was about to fall off.

The light turned green and I pressed the gas pedal down as I let off of the clutch, and promptly died.

Did I mention that I still got nervous driving a standard, even after driving one all these years?

Yeah, I was pretty sure life couldn’t get any worse right now.

Then I tried to start the Jeep back up and got nothing.

It didn’t even turn over.

It just clicked.

“Fuck!” I yelled.

People behind me honked at me.

The motorcycle carrying Booth had taken off as soon as the light hard turned green.

At least there was one thing going for me.

I got out after I flipped on my emergency blinkers and wondered how I was going to play this.

“You need some help?” A young man asked from behind me.

He had to be high school age, because he still had that ‘new driver’ look about him.

“Yes, please. I guess I need to push it over to the…” I stopped when the roar of the motorcycle came back to me, and I closed my eyes as I realized I was going to have to see him.

Talk to him.

The motorcycle pulled up onto the concrete median between the two roads, and I grudgingly looked over at the man that was hell bent on making sure my heart never healed.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asked without any pleasantries.

“It won’t start,” I responded dumbly.

He gave me a ‘I know that’ look and walked to the Jeep, dropping down inside of it without another word.

He shoved the seat back all the way, and I winced when I thought about how I was going to get the Jeep seat back into its original position. The seat didn’t like to be moved.

At all.

“Battery is dead,” he said.

I gritted my teeth.

I knew that.

“I know,” I said once I had some control over my mouth.

“Gonna have to pop the clutch,” he said. “Hey man, will you give me a push down the hill?” He asked the teenager.

The teenager nodded, and he and I got behind the Jeep and started to push. The teenager more so than me.

My feet started to hurt, so I kicked out of my flip flops and stepped onto the wet pavement, digging my toes into the gravel beneath my feet and pushed.

The Jeep started to roll, and with practiced ease, Booth let it get some momentum before he popped the clutch and started the Jeep right up.

“Thank God,” I said softly, turning to the teenager. “Thank you for the help.”

He grinned at me, showing me a full set of white, straight teeth that probably cost his parents a pretty penny.

“No problem,” he said, looking me up and down. “It was no hardship to help a pretty lady.”

I grinned and patted him on the shoulder before walking back towards my flip flops.

It was only then that I saw I’d cut my foot on something.

“Shit,” I said slipping my feet back into my shoes and grimacing at the raw feeling that the pressure of the shoe put on my foot.

My Jeep sat idling at the edge of the road right past my turn, and Booth started walking to me.

“You need to fix your alternator,” he said by way of greeting.

I gave him a thumb’s up. “Thanks,” I said as I passed him.

“And you’re going to need to get the spark plugs fixed…and you have an exhaust leak,” he said to my back.

I gave him another thumbs up.

“You’re not going to do anything about it, are you?” He called.

I shrugged and kept walking.

Probably not.

Stuff like that required money…money that I could spend on my cat. Or myself.

Plus, I didn’t have any money until next payday anyway, a full week and three days away.

Booth’s motorcycle roared past me, and I grimaced as he took off, trying not to think about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a helmet.

Stupid man.

Getting in my Jeep, I drove to my parents’ house, but Booth haunted me the rest of the evening.


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