Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
She was even more beautiful in the morning sun.
The light from the sun shone into her hair, making it have a shimmery, fiery look to it.
She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt.
She put black boots on that resembled the female version of my own, an expensive pair that I wore nearly every day because they were safe to ride in.
Her hair was in a ponytail up high on her head.
And her hair was still just as messy as the moment she’d answered the door, and I found that I quite liked the look on her.
“I don’t like that you’re meeting out here,” I muttered to myself.
However, Annie picked up on it the moment I spoke and started to look around with me.
“I really don’t see what’s wrong,” she grumbled.
She wouldn’t. She was a woman, after all.
“Shit,” Annie said suddenly. “Pull in there and let me get a bag. They asked me to wrap it.”
I thought that weird, but I didn’t say anything as I pulled into the Dollar Store and watched as she hurried into the store, bought the first thing she could find close to the register, and immediately went to the checkout.
“Okay,” Annie said, dropping into the seat as she tossed a smile my way.
I lifted my brows up at her.
“Tell me about selling your stuff online. What does the process entail?” I asked, backing up.
I couldn’t see shit with her tiny ass mirrors.
So I rolled the window down, turned my head around and contorted my body into a weird angle so I didn’t take anything out with her car.
My luck I would total it.
“I put the stuff I want to sell on a specific Facebook group geared towards garage sale items, and people comment whether they want it or not. Then we meet in a specified spot and complete the transaction,” she informed me, pulling up her phone and scrolling through it.
She turned the phone to me when I reached a stop sign, and I read the post she’d made in Uncertain Garage Sale Page, Buy, Sell or Trade.
“Do you make any money doing this?” I asked, pulling out and speeding up to the required sixty miles an hour speed limit.
“A little bit. Mostly, I do it because I don’t like clutter,” she said.
I nodded.
I didn’t like clutter, either.
And I really didn’t like it now.
Jennifer was notorious for not cleaning up after herself.
How hard was it to put the coffee cup away that you used?
Even more, would it kill her to wash the fucker out in the sink?
“He’s going to be in a blue car on the side of the building,” Annie said.
“FYI, I still think this is a stupid idea.”
Annie laughed. “Noted.”
Chapter 5
It takes 200 muscles to fake an orgasm. One bearded man can save you a lot of trouble.
-E-card
Annie
“This isn’t what I ordered, bitch. You said it was a Coach purse, not a…” he never had the chance to finish what he was saying.
Mig struck like a snake.
One second he was leaning against a tree talking on his phone, and the next he had the guy by the throat and he was throwing him across the small parking lot.
The guy hit the gravel with a hard thud and skidded.
The rocks on the ground underneath his body made soft tinkling noises as he moved over them, making me wince.
The man would have one hell of a road rash after that landing
“Don’t fuckin’ put your hand in her face. What the fuck are you thinking?” Mig snarled, standing over the man.
“Mig…” I started, but he held his hand up to stop me from continuing.
“I’m not some fuckin’ man that’ll stop just because you want me to. I’m me, and me is what you get. Right now, you’ll let me handle this little piece of shit,” Mig said with a deadly quiet tone.
I nodded, backing up to sit on the bench at the side of the store, to watch the scene before me unfold.
“Now, how’s about you tell me what made you so upset that you’d get into a woman’s face like that.” Mig ordered the man at his feet.
“She didn’t give me what I ordered. Tried to fuck me over,” the man said petulantly.
Mig’s head tilted. “You didn’t comment on her post on that online garage sale site?”
The man nodded.
“And what’d you expect to get? She explained to me on the way here how it all worked,” Mig growled.
“I ordered a Coach purse, wrapped. She had it in her post that she’d wrap it,” the man screamed.
“I did wrap it!” I screamed right back, pointing to the pile of tissue paper and torn bag I’d purchased on the way here.
“You lying bitch! I just gave you a hundred and fifty dollars! You owe me two ounces!” The man spat.
Mig froze at the mention of ‘two ounces’ but I didn’t.