AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Leland’s pale brows jump, his lips thinning as my words hit home. “Very true. Fate or not, life is indeed what you make of it, and the chances you take.” He carefully pushes off from the desk, his hands gripping the handles of the arm crutches. “Ladies, I’m sure you have calls to make.”
Yes, calls to make and a lot to think about. My gaze goes between Blaire at her desk and Leland’s rigid back as he makes his way back to his office. I hope those two do some thinking too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JAKE
On my way into the transfer station to dump off my load of garbage, I pass Tom’s truck heading out. He gives a wave and when I return to the department’s clean-up area, I’m not surprised to see him still there, hosing his truck down. Our township wants the trucks cleaned every two days, and that’s one rule you don’t fuck around with, or you’ll find your ass written up so fast it will make your head spin.
When I park, he turns off the hose and comes over with a look on his face. I know that look well.
“Gonna tell me about what happened when you took that hot little blonde home? And I still haven’t heard a thank you, by the way.” He tips me a wink.
“Thank you? For what?” I grouse, moping at my wet face with the red bandana I keep in my back pocket. The heat wave has continued and not an inch of me isn’t coated in sweat and grime. Turning the hose on myself is tempting as hell.
“For what?!” Tom smacks my shoulder. “For stepping off to the side and letting you get to know the little lady better. Blaire was a sweetheart and a hustler through and through, I don’t mind telling you, but there was zero chance she was coming home with me, and I knew that from the moment she suggested we go off to a table by our lonesome.”
“How’d you know that? Maybe you lost your touch with women. Oh wait, you never had it!” I laugh and tuck the bandana away.
“Because she flat out told me I wasn’t her type.” Tom chuckles and swipes his sweaty hair back from his face, sending droplets flying. “Damn, it hurt my feelings, but I like a woman who don’t mess around and tells it like it is. Shame, though, because she was my type.”
Shaking my head, I go over to the hose and grab it. “If she breathes, she’s your type. You need to play a little harder to get.”
“Yeah, yeah... stop changing the subject. So, did you hit that? Because she was one sweet piece of ass.”
My hands clench on the hose. “Don’t call her that,” I growl, stomping back over to him.
Tom holds his hands up, palms out. “Peace, brother. Didn’t realize.”
A harsh exhale leaves me. “Realize what?”
“That she’s wifey material.”
His words leave me stunned and I just stand there while he goes back to his clean truck and drives it around the building to the lot.
With a low groan, I finally get my ass in gear and clean my truck. She is wife material, just not mine.
Despite knowing that, I can’t seem to keep away, and finding her work isn’t hard. A quick trip home to shower and change and I’m standing next to her black beamer with a bunch of flowers I got at the gas station when Savannah and her redheaded friend come striding out at four thirty on the dot.
I can’t help grinning. No overtime for them.
Both girls are visions in similar dresses in blue and lavender, but my eyes are only for my princess. She looks straight out of a fairy tale and the closer she gets, the tighter my chest feels.
Licking my dry lips, I thrust the plastic wrapped flowers at her. “Hey.”
“Later, you two lovebirds,” her friend says, giving us a wave and gliding on long legs over to the green Porsche I couldn’t help admiring while waiting for Savannah to get out of work.
We watch the Porsche reverse and tear out of the parking lot, and I breathe deeply of the exhaust. Premium high-octane fuel, damn, it even smells expensive.
The flowers slide out of my hands, and I look down at Savannah and raise my brows.
“Yeah, spoiled rich girls. I know, I know.” She brings the flowers to her face and inhales. “Thank you for the flowers. I love them.” She beams up at me. “What are you doing here, Jake?”
Rubbing at the back of my neck where a fresh sunburn itches, I glance down at the flowers, unable to meet her bright blue eyes. “Thought I’d stop by and maybe see if you wanted to have dinner or something.”
Hearing it out loud, it sounds so stupid. “Sorry, I should have called first. You probably already got plans. I’ll go.” I turn to do just that when she darts in front of me.
“Or you could come back to my place and help me with the chicken breasts I have marinating.”
