AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I was so lost in my rage-fest that I failed to notice the hottie with the body in the shop had moved until he was right in front of me, rapping his knuckles against the glass and staring down at me curiously.
And, holy hell, did I stare back. The man was a smokeshow, head to toe. Dark hair and a thick, neat beard framed a pair of eyes the color of rich chocolate. Eyes that I could get lost in.
Eyes that were currently narrowed at me in suspicion.
“You got a problem or somethin’?” he asked, his voice deep enough to send a shiver down my spine, even through the shop window.
“Uh...” was my highly intelligent response.
Frowning harder, the guy set down his hammer on a nearby worktable, then made his way to the door of the shop, opening it and leaning out to get a better look at me.
“I said, you got a problem?”
“No,” I finally managed. “No problem.”
He didn’t look convinced, his eyes dragging over me from top to bottom. I could feel the icy rainwater sliding down my neck, plastering my hair to my face. The vintage knit cardigan I’d put on earlier was completely drenched, the wool itchy between my fingers where I’d curled them into anxious fists. Even my precious Docs—the limited-edition ones with the embroidered Venus fly traps on them—were wet, my toes squelching in the leather as I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot under the contemplative gaze of the guy I had just been having tattoo fantasies about.
“Well,” he said, drawing out the word as he finally brought his eyes back to mine. “There’s a homeless shelter a couple blocks over. I think they do a hot lunch or whatever. If you need some money, I got a couple bucks on me.”
What?
Holy fuck, he thought I was homeless?
“That’s not—” I sputtered. “I’m not—these are three-hundred-dollar boots, you asshat.”
“Cool it, Betty,” he huffed, one corner of his mouth curving up in a way that was absolutelynotsexy.
Not even a little bit.
“Don’t get bent outta shape. It was an honest mistake. Didn’t mean no offense.”
Snorting out a very un-ladylike laugh, I stomped past him, my hand digging inside my bag for my keys.
“You know, I have had just about enough of men for one day.”
“Well, alright then,” he replied easily.
That was bullshit, too. I was itchin’ for a fight. I needed to put at least one man in their place today.
My pride as a feminist was at stake.
Sliding my key into the lock, I turned it and opened the door, stopping again with one foot inside before turning back to the guy, ready to lob yet another insult at him, but he just stood there, that half smile on his face, and for some reason, I couldn’t make myself do it.
“Alright, then,” I echoed mulishly, offering up a silent apology to Gloria Steinem.
“Have a great day, Betty,” he drawled, that deep voice once again sliding over my skin in a way that I refused to admit I enjoyed. He turned back into the shop, and I just knew there was no way I could let him have the last word.
“I will not!” I shouted, and his dark chuckle followed me all the way to my apartment.
Chapter seven
Ricki
Ahotshowercouldmake a world of difference to a girl’s disposition.
So could a hot coffee with a decent dollop of Irish whiskey for that little something extra.
I was lucky enough to have acquired both of those things, ensconcing myself on the couch with a blanket and an episode of trashy TV by the time Violet finally walked through the door.
