Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Will do,” I reply, grabbing the paper cups and pouring in the coffee, and then placing them all on the stainless-steel ledge that is welded on there. “Here you go,” I say, turning and walking over to one of the bins and taking the donut out. I place it in a small white bag before walking over and handing it to him. He’s about to hand me money when I shake my head. “On the house. Thank you for all the help, boys,” I state, and even though I tell them it is free, they still each leave a couple of dollars on the ledge.
By the time noon rolls around, we are sold out of all the donuts, and a couple of the construction workers come out and ask if I make lunch. I have to sadly tell them I don’t. So I make a list of things I would need if I made wraps and sandwiches. I could prepare them in the morning and maybe my mother would be able to bring them to me. I’m cleaning up and closing up the truck when I look down and see my social media has lots of comments. I smile while I take a second to answer a couple of questions before I look over at the garage.
My feet move before my head tells me to get in my car and go. Pulling open the door, I hear the sound of machinery, and I stand here in the waiting area for someone to come and help me. Ryan is the one who comes out, and he smiles at me. “Everleigh,” he says, “what can I help you with?”
“Is Brock here?” I ask, the tightness in my stomach forming as he nods and yells over his shoulder for him before walking back into the garage.
It’s a couple of minutes later when Brock walks into the waiting area, a grease rag in his hand as he wipes them clean or at least tries to. His eyes widen in surprise to see me, and I can’t help but see he looks tired and wonder if he had a hard time sleeping like I did. “Hi,” I say, lifting my hand, suddenly nervous around him.
“Hey,” he returns, his tone softer than it has been the last couple of times when I’ve seen him. There is no harshness to his voice. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, nodding my head and looking behind him to make sure we are both alone. “I was hoping you could talk.”
“Everleigh,” he says my name on a whisper and a sigh.
“You said what you had to say, but you didn’t give me a chance to say anything,” I point out to him. I have no idea if I have anything more to actually say, but I know we are not finished with the conversation.
“I don’t think there is anything left to be said.” He reads my thoughts.
“I think there is.” I stand firm. “There are things I want to know, and forgive me, but you owe it to me to explain.”
He takes a deep inhale. “Fine,” he agrees, “but I’m not doing this here.” He looks over his shoulder, also making sure no one is there. “Come by my house tonight after six. I’ll make dinner for us.”
I try not to smile, but I fail. “Okay, I’ll bring dessert,” I offer. Then see the way his eyes and his face light up, “I didn’t mean that kind of dessert, I’ll meant I’ll bring donuts.” He chuckles, and it brings a warmth to my body I didn’t know I needed at that moment. “I’ll see you then.” I quickly turn and walk out of the garage before he changes his mind.
Chapter Twenty-Two
BROCK
Instead of going after her and telling her there is nothing else to talk about—fuck, how much more can there be to talk about—I watch her walk away. My heart hammers in my chest so fast that it feels like it’s going to come out of it. My eyes fixate on her as she walks over to her car and gets in. Her hair blows a bit in the wind, and I can admit that my heart aches watching her. I knew it would, knew it would fucking hurt. But again, instead of turning away and saving myself the pain, I’m adding more to it by inviting her into my home. A space that is reserved for Saige and me. A space I longed to have her in, so she could see what I created even though she hated me.
I close my eyes, breathing in deeply. “You okay?” I hear Ryan ask when he walks in with a work order in his hand.
“Yeah.” I nod, tucking the rag in my back pocket. “I’m going to head out,” I say, and he just looks at me with his eyebrows pinched together as he sits on the chair, fixing all of the papers on the front desk and putting them in a pile.