AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I should have been born a vampire.”
“You’ve got the temperament. Want me to make you a coffee?”
“I’ll let you have my children if you do.”
“I’m not sure I want my progeny to have your genes, J.D.”
He braced his hand on her desk. The man should be on book covers he was so pretty.
“What? Why not?” He glared at her through bloodshot eyes. Even hungover he’d sell books with that face.
“You’re not exactly low-maintenance, whereas I am.”
“Just because you can recycle years’ worth of trash into a shoebox doesn’t make you better than me, Birdie.”
“I can also live off grid and know what food I can eat out there that won’t kill me.”
“You have zero fashion sense too, which is important. So maybe you’re right.” He yawned loudly.
“So you say. I call it eclectic.”And cheap,she added silently.
Birdie rose from the office chair that J.D. had just bought her. It had wheels, could swivel, and heated in the winter.
“Is that what we’re calling it today?” His eyes traveled up and down her body.
“You are so superficial.”
“True. At least you match. Now go and get my coffee, sweetheart, because I have my first victim arriving soon.”
“I’m sure you mean client,” Birdie said as she brought up his calendar. Looking at the name of his first appointment, she only just swallowed down the moan.
Chapter5
Sawyer nudged his pickup slowly into the Becker driveway and around the first garden gnome. Stopping by the small caravan painted with flowers, he lowered his window.
“You want hot chocolate?” He looked at his niece seated beside him.
“With marshmallows?”
“I didn’t know they came without.”
“Uncle Sawyer,” Ally said in a tone that suggested he was hitting sixty.
Lowering his window, he leaned out.
“Hey, Mr. Becker,” he said to the elderly man who’d been inside this caravan every morning for as long as Sawyer could remember. “One hot chocolate, extra marshmallows for the kid who is faking a sick day, and a coffee.”
“Morning, Ally.” The man waggled his fingers.
“Morning, Mr. Becker. I’m not faking. I have a sore throat.” Ally waved and then coughed. The nails on her hand were bright pink polish with glittery stars. She’d had a girlie day on the weekend with his mom.
“That was pathetic. Your dad might buy it, but I don’t.”
Ally poked out her tongue at him.
“Are you wanting muffins, Tommy? Today’s is lemon-raspberry streusel, and they’re excellent for a sore throat.”
Mr. Becker was the only person Sawyer allowed to call him Tommy, because his favorite book was Tom Sawyer and he’d been calling him that since he was five.
