Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Again, Ozzy surveys our rainy surroundings with his deep-brown eyes just as another employee runs under the awning. He gives Ozzy a quick “Hey” and swipes his ID card to enter the building.
Ozzy grabs the door to keep it from shutting and props it open with his back while unzipping his jacket.
I stare at his fitted black T-shirt and admire his broad, defined chest. “How would you feel about going out sometime?” My heart races. Did I really just ask him out while ogling him?
Ozzy’s lips twist. “Can I get back to you on that?”
What am I supposed to say? No. He needs to give me an answer right now.
“Sure.” I smile. “No pressure. It’s okay to say no. Maybe you’re not dating yet.” I narrow my eyes. “Or you might not want to go out with me. I’m clearly a hot mess. And by hot, I don’t mean I think I’m hot. I mean . . .” I press my lips together and close my eyes. “I’m going to shut up now. Just forget I asked. I should get to the airport.”
By the time I open my eyes, his grin has doubled.
“I’ll get back to you after I consider your offer and decide if you are, in fact, too hot for me. Which, I can already say, you are,” he says.
Oh my god. He’s flirting with me. Will was wrong. I didn’t blow things with what will forever be called The Period Fiasco.
Ozzy fishes his phone out of the inside pocket of his rain jacket. “What’s your number?”
“Five. One. Nine . . .” I spew my number without sounding too desperate.
He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Have a safe flight.”
“Thanks,” I say with no control over my grin. “I hope you call me.”
For the record, I have never said those five words aloud.
Ozzy’s smile is all kinds of sexy. “I hope so too.”
I chuckle, shaking my head and returning to my vehicle while butterflies swirl in my tummy. By the time I fasten my seat belt, Ozzy is inside the building. Before I start the engine, my phone pings with a text.
Ozzy: Cedar’s at seven this Friday?
“Now you’re just toying with me,” I mumble with a laugh.
Chapter Four
Ozzy
Friday morning, I broach the topic while I pack lunch for Lola and myself. Tia and Amos have already eaten their eggs and sausage. Now they’re sipping coffee and staring out the dining room window at the bird feeders.
“I have plans tonight. I can ask the sitter to watch Lola if you have plans too. Otherwise—”
“Are you going to Diego’s? Lola would love to play with Kai,” Tia says without looking in my direction.
“No. I’m going to dinner with some people from work.” I don’t want to lie, but I don’t have time to argue this morning, and the truth would spark an unnecessary fight.
My date could be a one-and-done, so why start something now?
“Will you be drinking?” Tia asks.
I don’t drink around my in-laws, but that doesn’t mean I pass up an occasional beer when I don’t have to worry about people judging me. “Just water.”
“What time will you be home?” Tia prods.
“By ten.” I slide my lunch sack into my backpack just as Lola runs up the stairs.
“Teeth brushed. Bag packed. Let’s go, Dad.”
I grab her shoulders and kiss her head. “Here’s your lunch.”
She wrinkles her nose. “It’s not chicken again, is it?” She jams it into her backpack.
“Nope. It’s leftover pasta.”
“Yes!” She skips to the back door and shoves her feet into her red sneakers without untying them.
“We’ll be home. You don’t have to ask the neighbor to watch Lola.” Tia carries her coffee mug to the kitchen sink.
“Thanks,” I say before shutting the back door behind us.
I escort Lola to school, clock in my eight hours at work, and make it home in time to discover my wardrobe is stale and a decade out of style. I didn’t think this through. Brynn picked out my clothes whenever we had someplace to go that required more than jeans and a T-shirt. I own two ties and one suit. Is this a suit date? I don’t know. All four of my button-down shirts are faded and worn or missing buttons.
“Where are you going?” Lola jumps onto my bed and crosses her legs.
“Out with friends from work.” I pull a pilled-and-dated sweater from my dresser drawer. Who am I kidding? Despite the temps dipping into the forties tonight, I’ll sweat through this thing before I get to the restaurant.
“Are any of your friends girls?”
I keep my back to her. “Maybe. Why?”
“No reason.”
“That’s what I figured.” I smirk, daring her to say more after Tia scolded us. “What should I wear? One of these button-down shirts?” I hold up the two shirts that aren’t missing buttons.
Lola wrinkles her nose. “Wear your shirt that Aunt Jenny gave you.”