Chapter 4
He scowled at the silent phone, plotting what mayhem he could inflict on JC’s Classic Moves if they hadthe nerve to bill him for the hand truck that almost killed him. Mean? Jake didn’t know what “mean” was. And if this incident meant another round of physical therapy, Jake would be the one paying the perky therapist. Every damned penny.
Glancing at the open front door every minute or so, he fervently wished the bastard would get there quick, while Riley was still powered by his outrage—and still upright. Those pain pills had kicked in big-time, and everything was getting more than a little wavy around the edges.