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)
He lifts my chin so he can look into my eyes.
“Understand?”
“Yeah, and thank you. I actually liked her. If you’re happy with her, she’s fine, but not on Sunday Fuckdays.”
He barks out a laugh at that, and I grin at him.
“Deal. Sundays are just for us, then. Also, you’ll want to talk with Cassie so she knows what your preferences are.”
“My preferences?”
“For meals. Snacks. That sort of thing.”
“How often do you plan on me being here, billionaire?”
“Like I said, I’d be happy if you were here all the time.”
I stare at him, skimming my fingertips down his cheek as I take a long, deep breath. “I guess it’s not exactly fast since we’ve known each other so long, but when you decide to get swoony, you really go for it, don’t you?”
He frowns at me. “What does that mean?”
“We went from Connor barely speaks to me and only kisses me at family functions to move your shit into my mountain mansion and tell the sexy cook what you like to eat in about ten minutes flat.”
“I know what I want,” he replies, setting me aside so he can reach for his now tepid coffee. “If you prefer we stay at your place, that’s fine. I’ll bring a bag over later today.”
I blink at him, then reach for my own coffee. “Maybe we bring things to each other’s places.”
He grins, that full smile that takes my breath away, and I feel like I just won the lottery. “Deal.”
Sunday Fuckday was a success, and now that it’s Monday, my body feels loose from all the amazing sex. I’m well rested after two full nights of blissful sleep, and I’m ready to get back to work.
I have four interviews first thing this morning. Once the fourth is finished, I join Tiffany at the checkout counter and grin at her.
“Which ones do you like the best?” she asks.
“All of them. There’s no way to choose. I’m hiring all of them.”
“All four?” Tiffany questions. “Holy shit, that’s awesome.”
“Gina said she loves working with online orders, shipping and packing, that kind of thing, which is so great because our online store is starting to go bananas. I think all of them will be assets to the team. And they can all start this week.”
“This is amazing.” Tiffany grins. “I love it here, Billie. The store is so inviting and cozy, and hell, I would live here.”
“You already come in on your days off to read,” I remind her with a laugh. “You’re almost too dedicated.”
“Never.” She loops an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “Tonight is Spicy Girls Book Club?”
“Yep. Are you coming?”
“I can’t. I have other plans, but I’ll be there next month for sure. What’s the next read going to be?”
“I think we’re looking at dark hockey romance. The Pucking Wrong Number by CR Jane. I hear it’s super sexy and more than a little unhinged.”
“I love hockey romance. I’m in.”
“I need to finish this month’s book,” I reply with a frown. “Maybe I can take a couple of hours this afternoon if things slow down.”
“I don’t see why not.”
The bell over the door dings, and I turn to welcome the customer, then freeze.
“Juliet?”
My heart thumps, and I rush around the counter to run to the woman I considered a big sister for so long. I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tight.
She sniffs next to my ear, clinging to me.
“Hey, bug,” she says, calling me the nickname she gave me as a kid. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that? I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too,” I whisper as I let the tears flow. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
I pull back, and she brushes my tears from my face.
“Is it true? Are you really moving back here and opening a restaurant?”
She wipes at her own tears and nods. Her dark hair is a riot of curls, just the way I remember it. She’s not wearing any makeup and dressed casually in a pink tank top and shorts. It’s so good to see her.
I always thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. I was so lucky that Brooks loved her, and I got to have her as my big sister.
Then the world blew apart, and them with it, and she was just … gone.
“It’s true,” she says. “And you own a whole bookstore, which is so fucking badass.”
“Check it out,” I say, gesturing to the shelves. “It’s mostly all romance, with a little women’s fiction and thriller thrown in. Do you still like to read?”
“Are you kidding? Of course, I do.”
“Good.”
Juliet used to sneak me her romance novels when I was much too young to be reading them, but she’s why I love books so much.
And she’s back.