Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Spoken like a man who got his own D just now, am I right?” She snickered.
I groaned and dropped my chin to my chest. “I walked right into that one.”
“Yep. Later, gator.” She waved her fingers over her shoulder and headed to the bicycle she was now relegated to since her asshole baby daddy had stolen her truck.
“You wanna borrow my car?” I called after her.
“Nah. This is the only exercise I get anymore. Besides, it’s only a mile. Call me if you need me. Oh! By the way, those flowers need to go to the Rivens’ room when you get a chance. You know the drill.”
I started to turn back inside when James stepped through the doors, cell phone pressed to his ear. His expression had completely shifted from carefree, just been laid, to serious lawyer mode. His jaw was more rigid, his lips tighter, and the lines around his eyes more pronounced. He spoke in a clipped, authoritative voice as he strode right past me, barely pausing to shoot me a wave before sliding into his rental and driving off. I stood there, watching, marveling how quickly he’d morphed back into the old James. Corporate James.
Stranger James.
I didn’t like it.
Letting my mind follow that train of thought would get me nowhere, so instead of ruminating, I headed inside, ready to distract myself by delivering Mr. Rivens’ anniversary flowers before diving back into the Sea Sprite renovation plans. After all, I still had an inn to save.
When James returned with a late lunch, he still seemed a little distracted, the frown lines between his eyes ever present. I tried several times to draw him into conversation while we ate our sandwiches, but every time I could tell that his mind was elsewhere, focused on whatever was occupying his thoughts.
Finally I resorted to just asking him, “Everything okay?”
He glanced up at me, surprised. “Yeah, why?”
I suddenly felt self-conscious for having asked. “I don’t know, you just seem…” I waved a hand in the air. I wanted to say different, but really I’d only known the man for a couple of days. Who was I to say what was normal behavior for him and what was different.
He grinned a little sheepishly. “Sorry, work stuff. It’s always hard to keep up whenever I’m out of the office. I’ve got a lot on my plate to get back to.”
Of course, that made sense. I was sure the Sea Sprite deal wasn’t the only project on his desk. It was a reminder that James lived a different life, in a different city, in what may as well have been a different world. His closet was probably filled with designer clothes while mine came off the sale rack at Walmart. His social life involved galas and black-tie affairs while mine included bowling night and slinging drinks at the pub. His friends were well educated and wealthy, while few of mine had even gone to college and most lived paycheck to paycheck.
This—him being here, him being with me—it was just temporary. Once this deal was closed, he’d move on to the next, and the next, and the next. I was a pit stop. A dalliance. A fun distraction.
Soon he’d be moving on, getting back to his fancy office and teeming desk, and I’d be left behind. Probably barely even registering as a blip on his radar.
And wasn’t that what I’d wanted? Wasn’t this just supposed to be sex for me as well?
Suddenly I had a thought of him next week or next month in another city, sitting in another hotel lobby with another man, and I felt a sting in my chest. “Do you travel often for work?” I tried to make the question sound nonchalant while I gathered up our lunch trash and wiped the table free of crumbs.
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Once or twice a month maybe? Depends on the requirements of the deal. Some are easy.” He hesitated, then met my eyes. “Some are more complicated.”
So that’s what this was—what I was: a complication. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“And do you like traveling that much?” I asked.
He thought about it a moment. “I like seeing new places, exploring new towns. When I get the chance, that is. Sometimes it’s just straight from hotel to boardroom and back again and I don’t have much free time to look around. It can be frustrating sometimes, though. Over the past year my client has been pretty aggressive about expanding his real estate holdings which has meant more frequent travel, and that was….” He hesitated as though searching for the right word. “A little challenging for my relationship. Honestly, I think it probably contributed to my breakup.”
I had to admit I was curious about his ex and why he’d ever let James go. As far as I could tell, James was a catch: smart, successful, hot as fuck, and amazing in bed. More than that, he was generous and caring and funny and endearing. I knew I shouldn’t pry, but I couldn’t stop myself. “He didn’t like you being gone as much?”