Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I shrugged, knowing that keeping him in the dark would drive him up the wall. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
He stared at me for a second, and I just smiled, giving nothing away. “Fine. But don’t forget I have him on Monday and Tuesday. I don’t want you popping up with some excuse and screwing up our plans.”
Lucille snorted, and I began to make my way to the door before Jeff could engage her again.
“I already agreed and put it in my calendar.” I pushed the door and held it open for him.
He took his time leaving, his eyes roaming the space, no doubt looking for something else to comment on. Sure enough, just as he stepped across the threshold, he paused to say, “You’re not putting in more booths like that, are you? It’s outdated and frankly, looks like shit.”
It took every ounce of restraint I had not to kick him in the dick. “Have a good night, Jeff.” I pulled the door closed with probably more force than was necessary. “Jesus,” I breathed, twisting the lock on the door.
“Wow, the hot gargoyle must have really screwed up. You went from Mr. Tall, Quiet, and Tattooed, who is a solid twelve on a bad day, to marrying Mr. Shrimpy Loafers, who is about a negative three on his best day.”
“Shhhhhh!” I whisper-yelled. “Nate’s gonna hear you.”
She shrugged but dropped her voice. “Kid’s gonna have to learn his dad’s an ass sooner or later.”
Right on cue, Nate rounded the corner of the kitchen, his arm elbow-deep in a bag of kettle chips. “Who’s an ass?”
“Don’t say ass,” I scolded.
“What? She said it.”
“She’s an adult. You are not. Now, quit being rude and go introduce yourself.”
He eyed her for a second, then walked over and offered her his crumb-covered hand fresh out of the chip bag. “Hi.”
She didn’t bat an eye before shaking it. “Hey, little man. I’m Cooter.”
I sighed. “Nate. This is Miss Lucille and she’s going to be working with me. Please don’t repeat anything she says.”
“That’s probably best,” she told him before pinning me with a glare. “Uh uh. No way. I’m not Miss. Or Lucille. I’m Cooter. I only let you get away with calling me Lucille because you’re my boss. Though, if you need him to be more respectful or whatnot, he can call me Saint Cooter.”
Nate roared with laughter as I choked at the thought.
Before I had the chance to argue or come up with a better alternative, Nate shouted, “Nice to meet you, Saint Cooter!”
The two dissolved into a fit of laughter, and as I watched an unlikely friendship bloom between them, I decided I had bigger fish to fry than what my son called the crazy lady who’d taken a liking to me.
“I’m starving,” I announced. “Let’s get out of here and grab a pizza. Saint Cooter, you’re welcome to join us for a large pepperoni with extra pineapple.”
Lucille made a face like I’d just offered her a bowl of dog food, but she wrapped her thin arm around Nate’s shoulders. “Kid, you ever had hot wings before? We’ll leave that nasty pizza for your mom, and I’ll introduce you to some real food.”
I quickly gathered my things, racing to catch up to the two peas that were already in a pod, vowing to get there early the next day so I could actually check something off my to-do list before Truett arrived.
Or, more than likely, just sit around and obsess about our kiss until he showed up and I could obsess about him in person.
Truett
“Wow, you’re here bright and early,” Gwen said as she opened the door.
I chuckled awkwardly, keeping to myself that I’d been up since five because we hadn’t established a time to meet. I’d been so hyped about seeing her again this was actually my third trip to the restaurant that morning, waiting for her to arrive.
Fuck. Me. Two days without seeing her had been torture.
If breaking my routine and branching out of the house on days other than Wednesday had me off-kilter, that kiss had sent me into orbit. On Friday, I’d been shit at work, unable to focus knowing she was just down the street. I couldn’t see the restaurant from my house, but like a sap, I ate lunch on my front porch that day, hoping that the rows of homes dividing us would heed to my desperation and magically disappear so I could catch one single glimpse of her.
I ached to see her again. One taste hadn’t been enough. Though, there was no such thing as enough with Gwen.
I’d put my shoes on no fewer than a dozen times on Friday afternoon. Once, I even made it to the end of the driveway before convincing myself not to go.
She’d wanted that kiss just as much as I had, and the passion that had sparked between us when our lips touched could have set the world on fire. But her hesitance when she’d backed away was the only thing that had kept me from going to her. She needed time.