Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Not that there was a whole lot of that to begin with when it came to him.
“The plan, huh? It sounds like you’ve been giving it a lot of thought,” I teased.
“A whole lot of thought.” It was rough. Scraping the air.
I exhaled a shallow breath, and he seemed to shake himself from the direction we were going.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“I hungee!” Kayden offered.
Ryder chuckled. “Good thing, little man. I made enough to feed a small army.”
He set Kayden in his playpen before he turned back to me.
“What are we having?” I chanced, edging closer and coming to a stop at the end of the counter. It was usually a safe spot. Where I could stand to put some distance between us.
But my mind was slammed with the memories of what had happened in that very spot last night.
The way my breasts had been pressed to the cold surface as he had knelt behind me.
The way his big hands had felt touching me for the first time.
I was pretty sure all those same thoughts hit Ryder because he groaned before he raked a hand over his face, winding around me as he went to the stove. “Chicken fajitas.”
“It smells delicious.”
He quirked me a playful grin as he added sliced red bell peppers into the onions. “Are you trying to flatter me, Dakota?”
A soft giggle skated out. “No. I mean it. It smells really good.”
“Can’t compare to what hits me when I walk into your restaurant.”
“I think you might be biased.”
He hummed. “Maybe. Have to admit, every time I go through the café’s door, I feel like you’re making something special, just for me. That you’re thinking about me.”
He peeked my way, like he was looking for a hidden truth. And I wondered if he knew. If he’d known all this time that whenever I wrote a special on the board, it was a memory of him. That I kept them like a secret diary.
But he was owed that gratitude either way, wasn’t he?
Before I could respond, he gestured to the stool across from him. “Why don’t you sit and get off your feet? I picked up another bottle of wine if you want a glass.”
My spirit buzzed, and I fought the giddy smile that wanted to take hold of my face. “I think you’re the one who’s been thinking about me, Ryder Nash.”
He set aside the spoon he’d been stirring the vegetables with.
He came my way, that energy crackling, and he pressed his hand to the side of my face.
Heat flamed at the connection, and he stared at me with those eyes as he murmured, “The entire day, Dakota. The entire fucking day I was thinking about you. Couldn’t get you off my mind. Not for a second.”
A ragged breath left me when he suddenly went back to the stove. “Shouldn’t be, I don’t have a right to be, but it’s the truth.”
I wanted to argue with him.
Press him.
Ask him why he thought he didn’t deserve me.
Instead, I gave him a shaky nod and glanced at Kayden. “It has been a long day. I think I’ll go upstairs and get changed. Do you mind if I leave him down here for a few minutes?”
I needed a breath. A moment to clear my head. He was so much, and I felt like I was being hauled one direction before I was being pushed in the other.
“You don’t have to ask, Dakota.”
“But he’s my child. My responsibility.”
When I said it, his jaw clenched. A flash of anger that shifted into determination. His voice grated as he dumped the sliced chicken into the skillet. “That doesn’t mean you can’t rely on me.”
And I did. Probably too much. “I have relied on you, Ryder. For so long. It makes me feel like I’ve taken advantage. I almost have the money—” I started to rush, only the words clipped off when he suddenly moved.
In front of me so fast I nearly fell on my butt.
He got angry every time I mentioned it, but it needed to be addressed.
He gripped me by both sides of the face. Ferocity blazed from his hold, but in it was this trembling softness that reached down to touch my spirit that made me want to dig my fingers into him and never let go. He dropped his forehead to mine. “You think I give a fuck about that money, Dakota? That I want it back?”
I shifted so I was looking into his eyes, blinking through the disorder and the hammering that thundered from my heart. “Then what do you want?”
I needed to know. I had no idea where we stood or what any of this meant.
A ragged sigh rolled up his throat, and his entire body vibrated, rolling with uncertainty, before he peeled himself away and took a step back, his thick throat bobbing when he swallowed. “Go upstairs and change. Dinner will be ready in five.”