Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Lunch? We’re still sitting in front of breakfast, and you’re already thinking about lunch?” I ask. I’m not judging him, just surprised.
“That’s because lunch is the second part of our date.” His grin lights up his handsome face.
“What are we doing in-between breakfast and lunch?” I ask cautiously.
“We have a little time to kill. I was thinking I could drive you by my place, so you know how to get there.”
“And I need to know this because?”
“Because you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together, and you’re going to need to know how to get to me when I’m not with you or at the office.”
“You act like that’s the only two places you’re going to be.” I laugh.
“Well, I do go to the gym with my younger brothers. The older two don’t join us very often now that they’re married or almost married. The only other place I frequent is my parents’, and you’ll see their place later today.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Of course, it is.” His confidence in this decision is resolute.
“We’ll see,” I say, not committing. I have no idea why he’s so adamant that I go to this dinner with his family. But it’s not something that appeals to me. I’m not in the mood to be judged.
“Ready?” he asks when the waitress brings back his change. He tosses a twenty on the table, and my eyes bulge out of my head. “I can afford it, and they work hard.” He shrugs as if leaving a twenty-dollar tip for a bill that wasn’t even thirty dollars is normal. Maybe it is for him. I have no idea what his financial status is.
“Yes,” I answer as he offers me his hand to help me slide out of the booth, and I take it. I like the way it feels. The way the warmth of his skin seeps into mine. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the touch of a man, and even if it is just holding my hand, I’ll take it.
Once outside, his SUV is already running. He opens the door for me and rushes around to his side of the truck. “Gotta love remote start,” he says, rubbing his hands together.
“I was getting ready to ask you about that.”
“It’s one of the best features ever invented.”
“It is nice,” I say, settling into the heated leather seat.
“This is nice,” he says, reaching over and lacing his fingers through mine.
He rests our joined hands on the center console, and I can’t help but stare at them. I can’t see his tattoos, not under his jacket or the long-sleeve Henley he’s wearing today, but I know they’re there. I’ve never given much thought to tattoos, but on Grant, they’re sexy, and I want to see more of them and wonder if he has them anywhere else, someplace I can’t see.
“This is me,” Grant says, pulling into the driveway of a condo not far from downtown.
“It’s nice.”
“You haven’t even seen the inside.” He chuckles.
“I live over a bakery. It’s a tiny two-bedroom, so this is nice. Trust me.”
“Your place is cute. Convenient too.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I wait for him to tell me how I’m living in a shoebox compared to this place, or how crazy I am to have invested every penny into a business that I don’t know will succeed. However, early numbers are showing are good. Warm Delights is doing well. I just hope we can maintain our momentum.
“You want to go in?” he asks, surprising me again.
I turn to look at him, trying to gauge how he wants me to answer. “Do you want to go in?” I answer with a question of my own.
He grins and shakes his head. “Yes and no. I’d love to show you my place, but we have reservations.”
“What time is our reservation?” I ask, glancing at the clock on the dash. It’s almost half-past ten.
“Eleven.”
“Yeah, we better get going.” I turn back in my seat.
“It’ll happen,” Grant says, putting his SUV in Reverse and backing out of his driveway.
“What will?” I ask, confused.
“I’ll get you in there.” He points through the front window of his SUV. “I’ll get you in my space.”
“You’re awfully full of yourself.”
“I’m a determined man.”
“I don’t really know how to take you at times.”
My confession has him tossing his head back in laughter. “That makes two of us. I can’t tell if you’re into me, or if you’re here just to be polite.”
“If you remember, it was Aspen who accepted your invitation,” I remind him.
“She did.” He nods. “But you’re still here, sitting next to me in my truck, spending the day with me.”
“You’re right. Take me home.”
“What?” He presses on the brake, stopping us in the middle of the road and whips his head to the side to look at me.