Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Crap,” she says.
“Ha,” Dave says, “and everyone thinks I’m the worst Steel pool player.”
“You are,” Ava says dryly.
“Ava,” I say.
She turns around again. “What is it, Brendan?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I mean, alone.”
She sets her pool cue down. “Yeah, sure. I don’t need to watch Dave blow this shot.”
I lead her to the corner of the bar. “I was wondering…”
“Yeah?”
“If you’d like to have lunch with me. Tomorrow.”
“Well”—she looks down at her feet and then up to me—“I work lunches.”
Of course she does. She owns a damned bakery and sandwich shop. Nice move, Brendan.
“Dinner then?”
She reddens.
Is that a good or bad sign?
I think good, right? She’s blushing?
“I’d like that,” she says.
I stop myself from sighing in happy relief, but I can’t help a broad smile. “Great. What kind of food do you like?”
She laughs. “I’m a Steel. I like all food.”
“You mean you’re not…like…vegan or anything?”
She gives a cute little laugh. “Why? Because I have a lip ring and color my hair pink? No, I’m not a vegan. You’ve attended many Steel parties, Brendan. Haven’t you seen me down my share of hamburgers?”
I’m an idiot. Of course I have. Because my eyes never stray from her.
“So…tomorrow then?” I say.
“Sure. I close the bakery at six. Then I need to go upstairs and clean up a little. About seven?”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven at your place.”
“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”
I smile. “So am I.”
Boy, am I ever.
CHAPTER FIVE
AVA
“What was that about?” Dave demands when I return to the pool table.
“I just couldn’t bear to watch you miss that shot,” I say.
“Joke’s on you, then, because I made it, and the next two plus the eight ball. I win.”
I glance at the pool table. Sure enough, Dave has sunk all the balls.
“Wait a minute,” I tease. “How do I know you didn’t just put all the balls in the pockets while I wasn’t looking?”
Dave places his hand over his heart in mock surprise. “You think I’d actually cheat?”
I punch his arm. “Nah. Steels don’t cheat.”
“You’re right. You and the rest of our clan are going to have to stop making fun of my pool skills eventually. I made those shots, didn’t I, Laney?”
Laney Dooley, a gorgeous sandy blonde nearing thirty and a Murphy’s staple, looks over at us and giggles. “Don’t drag me into this. I saw nothing.”
Dave gives her a flirtatious grin. “Fat lot of help you are, sweetheart.” He turns back to me. “Guess you’re going to have to take my word for it, cuz. I made the shots.”
I pick up my pool cue. “Congrats. Drinks are on you, then.”
“You going to answer me?”
I lift my eyebrows. “About what?”
“About what Brendan wanted?”
I open my mouth, but for some reason, I don’t want to tell my cousin I’m going out with Brendan. Not because I’m freaked out about the age difference or anything, but because…
I’m not sure why.
It seems personal. Private.
I find myself…kind of excited about it. I rub my arms against the shivers that have erupted.
I haven’t been this excited about a guy in a while.
Maybe ever.
“He wanted to order a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. His mom asked him to, and he forgot to come into the bakery today.”
“Oh.”
Good. Dave seems to buy my little white lie.
“So drinks are on me,” he says. “What’ll you have?”
I need to go home.
I don’t want another drink.
I want to go back to my place and pull a tarot card. Maybe see what dinner with Brendan Murphy has in store for me.
“I think I’ll pass,” I say as I hang up my pool cue. “I’m going to head out.”
“You want me to walk you home?”
“I’m fine. It’s only a couple of buildings down, as you know.”
“Okay, but I’m going to watch you from the door.”
The Steel men are notoriously protective of their women. It’s cute, really. My father and my uncles, the original Steel brothers, are quite the chivalrous bunch.
True to his word, Dave walks me to the door and doesn’t take his eyes off me until I let myself into the bakery building and lock the door behind me. I walk through the dark bakery to the back and then unlock the door to the stairway that leads to my apartment above.
It’s bigger than it looks from the outside. It has two bedrooms, a decent-size living room, and a decent-size kitchen—which I had remodeled to meet my specifications so I could bake here as well as downstairs—and a small bathroom with a bathtub and shower.
It’s decorated in early American Ava.
Lots of daisies—my favorite flower—and wall art and odds and ends from flea markets and antique shops. Very bohemian, which is also how I dress most of the time. Flowing dresses and loose jeans are comfortable, and I need comfort when I’m on my feet and baking all day.