Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Made sense.
“I live with my cat. Roomba.”
“Excuse me? Roomba?”
I nodded. “She is a major grump. Hates everyone but me, and she only tolerates my presence because I feed her. I found her in a dumpster and brought her home. I named her Roomba because she was like a vacuum. Ate everything in sight for the first while. Still does, given half a chance.”
Dante finished his meal, pushing away his empty plate. He chuckled at my explanation, then frowned as I set down my utensils. “Are you not going to eat more?”
“No, I’ll take it with me and heat it up for dinner tomorrow.”
“Are you full?”
“Um—”
He cut me off. “Finish it. I’ll feed you tomorrow.”
I began to protest, and he leaned close. “Eat it, or I will come sit beside you and feed it to you. You will not leave here hungry. You’ve had a long day, and you need the food.”
“You’re really bossy, you know that?”
“I’m aware.”
I picked up my fork and began to eat again. I was still hungry, but his words echoed in my head.
“Why will you feed me?”
“Oh, Little Bee. I have a feeling that our negotiations will take a while. God knows I’ll need to eat to keep up my strength.” He winked.
“You’re supposed to be grumpy. Everyone described you as grumpy,” I said without thinking.
“I am grumpy most of the time. I don’t like people much. I hate crowds, weddings, that sort of thing. I tend to tell people what to do, and they don’t like that.”
“Really,” I replied sarcastically, indicating my plate.
“But you’re eating. Your little sidekicks jumped to attention when I told them what to do. Most people want to be led, and I excel at it.”
“Much of an ego?” I muttered around a mouthful, confident he couldn’t hear me.
“My ego isn’t the only large thing I have,” he replied, draining his coffee and ignoring me as I sputtered.
“As for being grumpy with you, I find it difficult. You make me want to smile.”
I finished all I could eat, pushing away my plate. He didn’t argue with me and smiled at Gladys as she cleared off the table.
“More coffee?”
He nodded. “Excellent brew. Is your pie as good as your coffee?”
“Even better.”
“Two pieces, then. You pick which kinds. I love them all.”
She waddled off, happy.
“Do you make pies?” he asked.
“No, my hands ruin the pastry all the time. Cakes, yes. Pies, no.”
“Not an issue. I prefer cakes.”
“I assume you have a function or some other pressing matter you need a cake for? That is your business proposition?”
He waited until Gladys filled his cup, set down two large slices of pie in front of him and left. He tilted his head, studying me.
“Partially, but my proposal is more, ah, personal.”
His voice was lower than before. Raspier. It sounded intimate. His eyes became intense again, his gaze heated.
I felt a shiver run down my spine that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with him.
“P-personal?” I asked.
He nodded.
I felt my eyes widen. “I am not selling you my virginity.”
It was his turn to sputter.
DANTE
Those were the last words I expected her to say. I choked on my coffee, wiping at my mouth.
“I beg your pardon.”
“My virginity isn’t for sale.”
I had to ignore the way my body reacted to her saying the word virginity. I wasn’t looking for a virgin. I wasn’t looking for anyone—until I saw her. But now, knowing she was a virgin, I wanted her even more.
I cleared my throat. “I’m glad to hear that, but that is not what I want to discuss with you.”
“What, then?”
“You mentioned you have a lot of debt.”
“I am aware.”
“You owed just under $27,000.”
Then she narrowed her eyes. “How did you know that?”
“I made it my business to know.”
“And what do you mean, owed? I still owe it.”
“No. I paid it off.”
She stared at me in shock, then recovered her voice. “What did you just say?”
“I paid off all your debts. You now owe it to me.”
I let her process that information. I cut off a bite of pie and chewed it, swallowing the sweet dessert. It was good, but not as good as Brianna’s cakes.
“What are you playing at?” she hissed. “You think you can pay off my debt, tell me I owe you, and expect me to do whatever you want?”
She looked around. “Is this a joke?”
“No.”
“You show up at the bakery where I work and take over, you bring me to dinner, you have somehow found out detailed, personal information about me. And then you dare to pay off my debts, and tell me I now owe you?”
She sat back, her face pale. “Who the h-e-double-hockey-sticks are you?”
I bit back my amusement. Even upset, she didn’t curse.
“I’m going to be your best customer. I want you to bake me some cakes.”
She began to laugh.