Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
That was, if she was into that type of stuff. Like rock music, beer and a local crowd.
And younger guys.
She might not be. That might not be her thing.
She could have a type and Whip might not even be close. As he suspected, he was most likely totally out of her league. Not that it would hurt to ask. She could only say no.
If she did, no harm, no foul. He’d been shot down plenty of times in the past and wasn’t an asshole about it like some men who got bent the fuck out of shape when it came to being rejected.
Whip didn’t understand that attitude. If a woman didn’t want a man, then the man should move the fuck on, not harass her or try to convince her to change her mind. Doing so wouldn’t win the stupid fuck any points. Being an egotistical, pushy dick-for-brains wouldn’t change a woman’s mind.
Take the fucking loss and get lost.
Simple.
“All right, gotta go before my ass gets fired,” he mumbled, turning toward the door.
It surprised him that she had closed the door behind him. Most women probably wouldn’t close themselves in a tight space, like a motel room, with a stranger, especially a male one.
It made him think she might be willing to grab that drink with him tomorrow night. By the way she hung onto him tighter than she needed to on the short ride from the garage to the motel, seemed to be a good sign. It appeared she trusted him so far and if so…
“Hey… Um…”
Whip paused with his hand on the door handle and glanced over his shoulder.
“Can you recommend somewhere to grab a decent meal?”
He released the handle and turned to face her. “Decent or fancy?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Decent will do. No fast food, though.”
“Then your best bet’s Dino’s Diner. Right down from the square. Everything’s homemade.”
“Is that within walking distance?”
He hesitated. “It is from the garage, but it’s a hike from here unless you don’t mind walkin’.”
“I don’t. The town’s safe, right?”
He hesitated again. The biggest threat was the Shirleys. He wouldn’t put it past those redneck militia wannabes to snag some random woman walking alone after dark. They could probably use some extra breeders that didn’t share the same DNA. While it would be stupid for them to snag women off the street in Manning Grove, no one said the Shirleys were smart.
“Same as most small towns. Best to not walk alone after dark.” That was the best he could do without spilling details about the hillbilly clan. He wanted her to be cautious but not scared or worried. “Remember what I said about Copperhead Road? Same deal.”
She frowned. “Well, then…”
He frowned at the uncertainty on her face. It was the first time he saw it. From the second he met her at the bottom of Hillbilly Hill, she’d exuded self-confidence.
“Do you… uh… have any plans for dinner?”
Shit. Had what he said made her wary? “You don’t wanna walk?” Was she asking for a ride, or asking him out to dinner?
“I’m sure I could find an Uber or Lyft, but… It’s not that.”
For fuck’s sake, maybe she wanted dinner, then a ride. He had to be misunderstanding the direction she was going. “What is it, then?”
“I wouldn’t mind some company.”
He blinked and let that sink in. “With me?”
Fallon tilted her head and her gaze circled the room. “Well… I mean… Yes, you. Unless there’s a Mrs. Whip? Or a girlfriend? Or someone who might want to gouge my eyes out for asking her man out to dinner?”
“You askin’ me out to dinner?” Did his ears need a good cleaning? Because he thought he’d have to pursue her and was not expecting the opposite.
“That was my intent when I asked if you had any plans. Maybe I wasn’t clear.”
“No, you were clear, I just… I wasn’t…” Don’t fuck this up, dummy.
Her lips curled slightly. “I mean it’s only dinner. I’ve been eating alone a lot lately and it would be nice to have some company. That’s all.”
Company. That was all, she said.
That wasn’t all Whip wanted, but, hell, it was a start.
The only time he ate dinner with anyone other than himself or his mother was after the club runs, during a pig roast or one of the club holiday dinners, like their annual Thanksgiving dinner or Christmas Eve party.
His mother insisted he come to dinner once a week and he did his best to accommodate her. Several times she’d hinted that she’d prefer he come more than once a week. While he loved his mother, there was no damn way he was—
“If you don’t want to or if you have someone in your life who’ll have a problem with it, I’ll understand.”
“That ain’t an issue. I just need to head back to the shop to get that Ford done. But after I’m finished, I can get cleaned up and come back to get you. Yeah?”