Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
"Dawn," a male voice yells above the waves. A hard chest anchors me. "Dawn."
It's Cooper. Even above the rush of the waves and in my disorientated state, I recognize his voice.
The saltwater stings my eyes, but I force my lids open to look at him, conscious that I might have scared him. "I was enjoying that," I say.
"Are we so bad we've driven you under water?" he asks. His mouth smiles, but I can see the seriousness in his eyes. It’s from the worry that he may have just stumbled across something concerning. I know what I was doing might look scary to him, but that's not how it was.
"Yeah. Such bad bosses. Such hard taskmasters."
"I'll get the rest of my asshole friends in line. All you have to do is say the word."
Sweet Cooper.
His questions at the wholesaler are still fresh, the way he was probing to understand the meaning behind the way I live my life. Guys never believe that girls can live differently without it being a sign that she's fucked in the head. With me, it's the opposite. I just see the world clearer than anyone else. The fragility of life, the looming end of it, and I'm not afraid to see everything as an opportunity.
"What word?" I ask.
He wipes errant strands of hair from my salty forehead and presses a kiss in their place. "Any word," he says. "Just say any word and I'm yours."
I beam up at him, clinging to his shoulder as the waves froth all around us. With the other hand I pretend to pull a zipper across my lips, sealing in all my words, and he snorts with laughter.
Any word.
It feels like a challenge, finding exactly the right word to say to make him mine.
Then I know which one to pick. It’s never let me down.
"YOLO," I say with a grin.
"Isn’t that four words?" he asks earnestly.
"Not for me," I say, pulling against his shoulder so I slide up his body enough that our faces are level. "Not for me."
When I kiss him, I think he understands. At least, I hope he does.
13
LACHLAN
I like my vantage point. Working the bar means I can keep my eye on everything that’s happening at Cloud 9. My friends tease me that I’m a control freak, and maybe I am. There are some people in life who are meant to be in charge. People who enjoy the responsibility.
All I know is that I like order and predictability. It keeps the demons at bay.
When Dawn approaches the bar with a long order of drinks, she hands the list over, but doesn't wait for me to prepare it. Instead, she heads over to a recently vacated table and begins to clear it of glasses and bottles.
I was dubious when Mitchell wanted to hire her to work here. Anyone who believes in YOLO enough to have it tattooed on their ass isn't going to be reliable. That tattoo says flaky. It speaks of a person who's ready to drop everything at a moment's notice. That isn't the kind of person we need in our business. It isn't the kind of person we need in our love lives, either.
Except, Dawn has actually been an excellent addition to our team. She's great with people. The customers love her. The tips have doubled since she joined. She picks up everything fast and doesn't try to change things because she feels like it. All my ways of working have been taken on board. Watching her work to my rules does something to me that I can't really explain.
The sway of her hips. The bounce of her hair. The brightness of her smile.
She's the opposite of what I thought I'd want, so much so that the feelings I have for her have unsettled me.
I'm not a masochist, so being attracted to someone who I know has the potential to drive me crazy isn't in my nature.
But attracted to her, I am.
"Dawn, come here a wee minute," I say, when the order’s almost ready.
She strides over, balancing a tray which dwarfs her in scale.
"Is there something wrong?"
I take the tray and place it behind the bar, then pick up her handwritten order sheet and pass it back to her. "What does that say?"
"Gin and juice." She glances up at me, and I nod once. "Are you struggling to read my writing? I'll try to make it clearer."
"It's okay," I say. "It might take some time for me to get used to it."
Dawn shifts on her feet, glancing down the bar as though she's not quite comfortable in my presence. The thought that she'd be seeking out one of the others annoys me. Well, it disappoints me. I'm perfectly aware that I'm not the easiest man to get along with. Aware, but not able to do much to alter myself. I am what I am.