Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I’m confused for a moment but then slowly shake my head.
“Join me for lunch then.”
“Oh, I can’t,” I say, throwing a thumb behind me. “I’ve got work to do.”
“Fifteen minutes, Lilly. You can spare it and I’ve got stuff to talk about regarding your dad.”
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “All right… I’ll join you.”
I try to take the card but he pulls it back. “Put your order in.”
“I don’t need to have mine paid for. It’s one of the perks of owning a deli.”
Boone nods at the iPad we use for transactions. “Put in your order and let me pay for it.”
Another staring match ensues but finally I give in, punching in a turkey on wheat.
“Add bottled water and chips for both of us,” he demands with a wink.
I roll my eyes but I can’t stop the small smile before doing as he commands. “What makes you think I like bottled water?”
“I don’t,” he says as I turn the pad for him to tap his card against it. “But it’s healthier than soda.”
I snort. “You’re lucky that I do, in fact, drink only water.”
The screen updates and presents him with the order total and a place for his signature. He enters a custom tip of thirty bucks and holds up one hand as he signs with the other. “Don’t even think to complain about that.”
My mouth snaps shut as I was indeed getting ready to lay into him for such an extravagant waste of money. At least to me, but maybe not to him. I’m sure he makes a fortune as a hockey player.
While Boone grabs bottles of water and chips from the self-serve rack and cooler, I stick my head in the back. “That order is for me and a friend,” I say to Charles. “I’m going to take a quick break.”
“Take longer than a quick break, boss,” Georgie says. “We got you covered.”
I give them both a smile and nod my thanks. “I just need about fifteen minutes.”
Charles and Georgie exchange a mocking look but it’s Charles who drawls, “Oooh… a whole fifteen minutes. Wow.”
“Smart-asses,” I mutter as I let the door close and turn back toward Boone. He chose a booth farthest away from the counter, I assume for privacy since we’ll be talking about my dad. One thing I’ve learned about the meddlesome hockey player, he’s nothing if not thoughtful.
I slide into the booth opposite him and Boone pushes a bottled water and chip bag to me. I note he chose barbecue, which is fine. I like them all as evidenced by the padding on my hips, but I push the bag aside until my sandwich gets here.
Boone opens his bag and pops a chip into his mouth while staring at me.
“What?” I demand as I unscrew the top of my water.
“You look absolutely pained to be taking a break,” he observes after swallowing.
“I’ve got a ton of stuff to do. I don’t have the luxury of breaks.”
His expression softens. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of how busy you are. I don’t know that I’ve ever met a single person with as much responsibility as you carry.”
“No,” I exclaim with a shake of my head and an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. And yes, it’s hard for me to sit still, always feeling like I’m letting something slip through the cracks, but I do realize there’s value in it.”
“Then I’m glad I forced you to join me,” he says.
I dip my head, cock an eyebrow. “You’re kind of pushy.”
Boone laughs and my breath sort of catches. He’s an incredibly handsome man but that easy, delighted burst of humor makes him near beautiful. I shake my head, clearing away such thoughts. “Before I forget, congratulations on clinching your division last night.”
Boone blinks in surprise. “You watch hockey?”
“No,” I admit with a sheepish smile. “But Aiden does and that’s what we did in his room last night. He’s taken it upon himself to teach me the game now that he’s best buds with Boone Rivers. We were celebrating some good news, so it made it extra nice that you won last night.”
“What were you celebrating?” Boone asks, picking up his water bottle.
“I’m not even sure what you know about Aiden’s condition.”
“Aiden told me he got leukemia when he was five and that it went into remission for a while, but that it came back not long ago. More chemo didn’t help, so they did the bone marrow transplant.”
I nod at the very basic history. “It was the best option.”
“I’m not really sure what that means,” Boone admits. “I try to always let Aiden steer the conversation, so I don’t ask a lot of specific questions. He did tell me that they sort of blasted his marrow to get rid of the leukemia but that it killed all his healthy cells too, so that’s why he’s at such a risk for infection.”