Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I know I didn’t.
“How are you?” I ask him, and by the way he presses his lips together, the question seems to take him by surprise. I want to reach out and take his hand, so I fist my own and keep it in my lap. His eyes fall to watch the movement, and his jaw firms. “Doesn’t anyone ever ask how you are?”
“Not often.” He pushes his fingers through his hair and nudges his glasses up his nose. “I’m well, thank you for asking.”
So he gets formal when he’s taken off guard.
I feel like so many things are falling into place, and I’m seeing him through a different lens.
“I guess my whole family must have reached out to thank you for what you did.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aye.”
“Even my parents?”
He doesn’t look away from me. “Aye.”
With a nod, I reach up to finger the pendant at my throat and bite my lip. “Are you hungry?”
He stands and offers me his hand. Without hesitation, I take it, soaking in the warmth from his touch, and let him pull me to my feet.
And when we’re just inches apart, he tips my chin up so he can look me in the eyes.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “I’d like to spend the day with you.”
I almost agree, and then I blink. “I can’t.” I see his face close off and hurry to explain. “I would like that, but I really can’t. I only have two employees, and I want two people in the store at all times. Tiffany is having a medical procedure done and can’t work tomorrow, so I have to go in.”
He seems to visibly relax with that explanation.
“What day would work for you, angel?” he asks.
“I can take Friday.” It feels so far away, but I want Tiffany to have enough time to recover. “She’ll be back at work on Friday.”
Connor nods and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead. “Friday it is, then. Let’s go inside.”
“Connor—”
He cuts me off and kisses my forehead once more.
“Friday.”
It’s Tuesday night, and I’m so fucking tired.
God, I wish I could just sleep through the night like a normal person. But I can’t. I’ve done all the meditations, the affirmations, the mental exercises. I’ve tried medications, but they make me too drowsy the next day.
Melatonin gives me nightmares.
Magnesium helps, but then I took too much of it and couldn’t get out of the bathroom.
Nothing works.
I’m finally home from work, and it’s late in the evening. Later than usual for me, but my second employee, Emily, had a family emergency, leaving me alone at the shop for the afternoon. I had too much to do after I locked up to simply walk away and come home.
Hopefully, Emily will be able to work tomorrow.
I’ve just kicked off my shoes, like I do every night as soon as I walk through the door, when my phone pings with an incoming text.
Expecting it to be Skyla or Dani, I wait to check it until after I’ve changed into comfortable clothes and washed my face.
But when I look at the screen, I’m surprised to see that it’s Connor.
Connor: How was work today?
I frown, then look over my shoulder as if someone’s there to laugh. As if this might be a joke.
Connor Gallagher is texting me, asking about my day?
This is new.
Chewing on my lip, I type out a response.
Busy, which is good, but I was left alone for the afternoon, so I just got home. Long day. No complaints, though, because I killed it in sales. How was your day?
I pad into the kitchen and stare at my empty fridge. I didn’t make time for the grocery store, let alone any kind of meal prep this week. I’m considering calling Old Town Pizza when my phone pings with a response.
Connor: Meetings all day. About to go into another one but wanted to check on you. What’s for dinner?
With a chuckle, I send him a photo of my empty fridge, then type my response.
Pizza, I think. I should really get to the store sometime this week. What are you having? Something fancy in your fancy meeting?
The bubbles dance on the screen as I pour fresh water into my tumbler.
Connor: I’m having a steak. If you were here, I’d share it with you.
Holy shit, who is this man, and what has he done with broody Connor? He’s flirting with me.
Maybe I’d make you buy me my own steak. I’m pretty hungry.
His response is immediate.
Connor: You can have whatever you want, bumble.
I still hate that nickname, but my lips twitch.
Have a good meeting.
Connor: Good night.
I place my pizza order and take a shower while waiting for it. The timing is perfect because the doorbell rings just after I’ve combed out my wet hair and slathered on my moisturizer.
But when I open the door, it’s not the pizza delivery kid.