Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
He shifted, causing her to slip off his shoulder, so she straightened as well. “So it’s the family business.”
“Kind of.” It was her turn to wince. “For the men anyway. I was told my entire life that women shouldn’t be cops. That we’re too soft, too sweet, too emotional to be cops.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. They said it even after I’d kicked them in the balls and pinched them so hard they bruised.”
Tracker laughed as he kissed the top of her head. “You were a fierce little thing even back then.”
The kiss had her insides going all gooey and warm. “Kinda had to be to keep up with my brothers, which was my main goal in life.”
“So if you weren’t meant to be a cop, what were you supposed to be?”
Ugh, why did she dread telling him this so much? Probably because the last few times she told a guy, they reacted with stereotypical excitement. Her fiancé had loved nothing more than telling people about her pageantry success. If he’d had his way, she’d have worn her tiara and sash to the grocery store. He wore her title like it was his own. He’d thought she could achieve no greater honor than to be beautiful. When she’d informed him of her dream to be a police officer, he’d been horrified.
“A beauty queen,” she answered, swallowing down the sickening burn of memories.
Tracker laughed. “Yeah, right, that’s funny.”
Huh? She shifted until she faced him more. “What?”
“No offense to the women who participate in beauty pageants, but I can’t even begin to imagine you strutting your ass across a stage in five-inch heels and a fancy-assed dress.” He laughed. “Or a fucking bikini. Seriously, I know they’re your family and all, but are they insane?”
She blinked. “I, uh, well…” Words failed her.
“Come on.” He stood and held a hand out to her. When she grabbed it, he hauled her to her feet, then kissed her until her head spun. “My ass is asleep. Let’s lie down.”
He led her through the small, neat house to the one bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it wasn’t large. A king-size bed with a light gray comforter dominated the majority of the space. The walls were mostly bare but a soothing, sea-aqua color that matched the simple beach-house vibe. What captured her attention most was the wall of windows facing the gulf.
“Tracker, this is beautiful. I can see why you love this place.”
He didn’t so much as glance at the view as he guided her to the bed. She went willingly and, within seconds, found herself on her side facing Tracker with a light blanket warding off the chill of the air conditioning.
“Now,” he said as he stroked a hand over her hip. “In case I started digging myself a shallow grave, let me say this. I think you are gorgeous. So beautiful, I lose myself staring at you sometimes. So when I said I could never imagine you being a beauty queen, it wasn’t because I don’t think you would qualify. Hell, if that’s what you wanted, you could be Miss World, or Miss Earth, or whatever the hell the winner is called.”
His lack of knowledge in this area charmed her to no end and had her laughing.
“I just mean that it doesn’t seem like something you’d ever want or enjoy.”
Her laugh turned bitter. “Well, you’re right. I didn’t like it.”
Tracker froze. “Wait. Are you saying?
“Yep. From two until I won Miss Teen USA at nineteen. After that, I modeled, mostly catalogs.”
“Holy shit.”
“I hated every second of it. But my family was always so proud. They loved it. Even my brothers. Something about having a beauty queen in the family made them all crazy excited. I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “I had a fiancé for a while, and he was the same. Loved to tell people about the pageants I won. Parading me around like a dress-up doll made him happier than a cat licking its ass.”
“Babe…” Tracker shook his head. “Let me guess. You did it so they wouldn’t be disappointed even though it made you miserable. You shoved your own dreams of following in your brothers’ footsteps down and lived your life for everyone but yourself.”
Tears threatened to ruin the moment. “Uh, yeah, pretty much. About a year ago, my fiancé told me he thought I should get back into pageantry, even though he knew how much I’d hated it. That was kinda my breaking point. I called off the engagement, quit modeling, and joined the police academy. I vowed that was the last time someone, a man especially, would tell me what to do with my life. I wasted too many years trying to make other people happy.”
“You are amazing. You know that?”
Amazing. Right. She snorted. “You might be biased or blinded by the sex.”