120 Mph by Jevenna Willow Read Free Book Online Page A

was not going to play
fair.
    He confirmed it by saying, “You need to
eat, as much as I do. It will be in a well-lighted area. And I will promise you
there will be no harps, no incense, not a single angels’ wing tucked under the
shirt.” He was teasing her and unfortunately it was working.
    “What about a halo?” she asked, giving Mr.
Mohr his just dues until she ran out of the opportunities.
    His face became a stoic mask of
determination and sincerity, the very worst kind to show her, while she so
vulnerable for human companionship and having the worst week of her life.
    “It’s in the shop getting polished.”
    Sara’s brow rose. “My, you do get
yourself pretty swiftly out of the gate, don’t you?” A patient tongue was not
her forte`.
    Without pause he grinned. “Only when there’s
a need I am on my best behavior.”
    “And this is one of those times
considered as best behavior?”
    Reverend Mohr flared his nostrils and
slowly let go of her arm. “Well?” He completely avoided her question, asking
his own.
    “Well, what?”
    “Dinner with a witty, charming woman
seated opposite me? Or another frozen tray of unrecognizable goo I have to gag
down?”
    “And who, exactly, would this charming,
witty woman be?” she asked, checking her growing smile.
    “Well,” he started, giving it deeper thought.
“I guess if Harriet Thorn is still mad at me, I will then have to settle for
you.”
    His words raised sudden curiosity in
Sara. Curiosity she should have known better than to state as an actual
question.
    “Why would old lady Thorn be mad at you?
You did, after all, give her your rather hard-earned seven dollars and fifty
cents.” She then gave him a strange look that added more to it, before saying,
“Is it possible Reverend Mohr made an old lady mad?”
    The twinkle in his eye should’ve been
warning enough for Sara, same as his quick wit, but unfortunately, that twinkle
became fuel to an already growing fire between the two.
    “Harriet Thorn is the reason I have a
freezer full of frozen dinners,” he declared, sounding irritated.
    “Then I take it you can’t cook?” she
asked.
    A second later, Sara felt the awful
taste of her foot in the mouth, sweetened from the pile of shit she’d been
stuck in for the better part of three days.
    “As a matter of fact,” the Reverend
conceded to, “I can’t cook. Now do you feel sorry for me, enough to have dinner
with a man who can actually burn water?”
    Sara took a deep breath, looked him in
the eyes, and said by way of shrugged shoulders, “Sure. Why not? After all, you
promised no halos, harps, or angel’s wings. And if you only burn water . . .
and not walk on it . . . I should be able to survive a simple dinner with you.”
    Christian’s huge grin came out
unchecked. “Great. I’ll pick you up, say around seven o’clock.” He was about to
walk away, then thought better of it and added, “And, I will make certain
wherever I take you to, they serve Deviled eggs and hide any potential Angel’s
Food Cake. How’s that sound?”
    An uncharacteristic spurt of energy had
her saying, “Sounds great, if you can pull off the task.”
    Christian’s smile fell. A half-second
later, for which neither could explain—nor even wanted any explanation
made—Reverend Mohr stepped forward, pulled Sara toward him . . . and he kissed
her full on the mouth.

 
     
    Chapter
Six
     
    Sara Ruby melted into Christian’s kiss.
She dove headfirst into his kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck and
pulled her mouth closer to his kiss. Unfortunately, once Christian realized
what he was doing, he pushed her away as if the hands were caught in wildfire
and a strong breeze set at his back.
    Guilt filled him from crown to toe as Sara’s
fists fell to her sides, and her eyes glared liquid fire at his face.
    “Oh . . . God!” was all he could say.
    The shame of what he’d done hit him as quick
as lightning, and was just as painful.
    Sara then ripped into his