Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“Goddamn it,” I mumble under my breath, stomping from the back yard into the shop.
When I burst through the metal door I look over to see Chunky lazily lift his head up from his bed. We’re not sure how old he is, but he’s half deaf, which works great in the shop. He wandered up one day like he owned the place and lay down on a pile of old towels in back and never left. He was well fed but had no collar. We all know just about everyone in this town and we put up fliers all over to find the owner but never got a single hit. All I could think at the time was someone dumped him while passing through, and their dickhead move was our good fortune.
“She’s got a date!” I shout and he looks at me and cocks his head to the side. “I know, can you fucking believe it?” He sits up as I pace back and forth. “She can’t have a date; everyone knows the rule.”
He smacks his lips a few times and I walk over to the table and grab him a bone. I bring it over to him and he takes it before he lies back down.
“You’re right. I just need to go get her.”
Chunky makes a grumble of approval as he gnaws on the bone in perfect contentment. I’ve always thought of him as the shop mascot, and he is since he belongs to all of us. That’s also another problem because he acts like he hasn’t been fed in a week so everyone is always giving him food.
“Wish me luck,” I say over my shoulder and grab my keys. Chunky lets out an old man bark just before the door closes behind me. I swear that dog pretends he can’t hear just to get more treats.
I spend the next half hour driving to all the places I’d take Gemma on a date. Not that I’ve thought about it nonstop for the past however many years. The first place I go is by the lake where they have paddle boats and a place to feed the swans. When she’s not there I breathe a sigh of relief because I think I’d feel almost betrayed if she was there with another man. After that I go to the old picnic movie theater where people bring blankets and watch the movie outside. I always pictured us laid out on a blanket under the stars and cuddled up while laughing at some comedy together.
When she isn’t there either another knot in my stomach loosens and I keep on looking.
I drive by the skating rink, the putt-putt place, the bowling alley, the paint-your-own-pottery clay studio, and a dozen other places I’ve dreamed of taking her. But there’s no sign of her car or anyone that’s seen her and I’m starting to get worried.
Then it hits me. If she’s with some douchebag in town that doesn’t know the rule, then they’ve probably taken her to some trash bar like Shakers.
Sure enough, when I drive to the outskirts of town I see her car parked out in front of the dive bar. My protective instincts kick in like a lion in the savannah and I stalk into this shit hole to get my girl.
When I walk in I see the place is crowded, but it’s late on a Friday night so I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t recognize many people here and it’s probably because it’s so far out of town that it’s closer to the next county. I show my ID to the bouncer and he barely glances at it before he waves me in.
Good to see the security in this place is tight. I roll my eyes as I push through the crowd and scan around me at the same time. It’s wall to wall people and the live band is playing at the absolute loudest level they’ve got.
Why would anyone bring a date to a place like this? The place is filthy and smells like old piss. There’s a haze of smoke all around and it’s hot as fuck. Any man who would think this is a great place to bring Gemma doesn’t know a goddamn thing about her. She’s sweet and delicate and not made for a place like this.
There’s a loud cheer coming from the bar and I turn around in time to see Gemma standing on top of it.
“Shit,” I say, but it’s not like anyone could hear it over the music and men whistling for her.
She’s standing on the bar with her hands in the air and wiggling her hips. A couple of other women join in and that’s when I realize the band is playing “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”
Over my dead body.
I’m a big guy so I use my size to get me through the crowd. By the time I elbow my way up to the front there are so many women on the bar Gemma is having a hard time keeping her feet from slipping off the wet wood top.