Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Oh, okay. I won’t keep you.” She takes another step toward me, and I shift myself away from the truck. Any excuse I can come up with for me to touch her I’m going to use to my full advantage.
“You’re not keeping me, honey.” I lose her pretty blue eyes when she looks down at the ground. Well, fuck, the last thing I want is for her to retreat into herself.
“Amos.” My name coming from her lips hits me square in the gut and makes me think perverted thoughts all in one go.
“Come on, let’s get you in the truck.” I push away from where I’ve been leaning, watching as she drags the toe of her shoe through the gravel. The last thing I want is another situation where she’s falling. The next time she lands in my lap, I’d prefer it with little to no clothes on and somewhere we won’t be interrupted for hours.
“I can do that.” I’m already two steps ahead of her, opening the passenger door and sliding my finger along the strap of her bag to lift it off her shoulder. Luckily, Genevieve goes with the flow, ducking her head when I pull the goliath bag away from her. I swear every woman I’ve been around, mainly Sienna, Mrs. Johnson, and her brood of daughters-in-laws, they all have a common theme: big-ass purses or none at all.
“I’m already here. May as well help.” I place her bag on the floorboard, hand going out to hers once that’s done. Genevieve is hesitant at first, almost like my skin is searing hers.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. My hand not encompassed with hers grabs her hip, giving it a light squeeze as her foot meets the running board. Sienna tried to start a joke about the bigger the truck, the smaller the manhood, but one look from Trey made her change her mind and firmly keep her mouth shut, and I had to try not to gag at the thought of my baby sister and best friend together. Needless to say, the size of my truck wasn’t brought up again. And yeah, it’s probably a bit overkill, but when you go on long hauls, luxury becomes a necessity. The stone-gray F-250 Limited took a whack of cash even with my last trade-in, but it was worth it. Seeing Genny sitting in the plush leather interior with heated and cooled seats makes it all the more so.
“You’re welcome.” I drag my hand down her body as she takes her seat. “You good?” I’ve still got a few more things to do, being more cautious than I would be if I were taking this haul by myself. I’ve already packed a cooler with drinks and snacks. I had to call Sienna to see what Genny likes and doesn’t like. Iced coffee, Dr. Pepper, and flavored waters are her preferences when it comes to beverages. The woman probably has caffeine running through her veins instead of blood; might make more sense with her seeming so jittery. Though, I think there’s more to it. I’ll wait till she feels comfortable enough to tell me. No way would I bring the subject up to her or my sister. Nope, not looking to get my nuts or teeth knocked in.
The snacks consist of chips, and not just any chips either. The list went in order from first to last: crunchy Cheetos, cool ranch Doritos, and jalapeño Kettle chips. There’s currently a bag containing all of the above, as well as the licorice, peppermints, and peanut butter cups. I went fucking ham, only tossing in waters, sunflower seeds, and beef jerky in the mix for myself.
“I… I’m good. I feel like I should be helping in some capacity.” She wets her lips, her tongue tracing the seam, and now I’ve got more thoughts rolling through my brain about what I’m eventually going to do to her mouth.
“All I’m doing is closing the gate for the trailer, checking the plugs, and then getting this show on the road.” Instead of waiting for a response, I back away from her, going against every cell of my being. Once her door is shut, I’m heading to the back of the trailer. The bison I’m picking up for the herd this week will be a heavy load, and the last thing I want is something breaking down. As it is, I’m sure a tire will blow at some point. Shit is inevitable. I go through the paces—plugs are connected, the gooseneck is all set up, and there are a couple of spares in the back of my truck as well as a first aid kit, the animal kind.
I take one last walk around the truck and trailer, not seeing anything that sticks out like a sore thumb, and then head for the driver’s side. A quick pull on the handle, my fingers wrap around the wheel, and I’m settled in the seat. The truck has been idling, keeping the cab warm enough for Genevieve with the crisp fall air that hit this week. It was unseasonably warm, and then Mother Nature kicked in. It was about damn time.