Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
The way he polished off the cake, there was no doubt he did.
I couldn’t begin to describe the way it felt when he appeared beside me, telling off the asshole and making sure I was okay. I was used to taking care of myself. I had to. I knew enough moves, I could have brought the idiot to his knees in a few seconds, but having Ronan stand up for me left a warmth in my chest. The way he’d tucked me behind him, ready to defend, made me feel special and…protected. Safe.
I wasn’t used to feeling either of those.
I sighed as I wiped down the table and replaced the condiment holder.
The feeling had faded when he left. He never asked for my number. I was sure he was going to, and for the first time in years, I hoped to be asked. Every time I had looked his way, our eyes had connected. He seemed to find excuses to call me to his table. He asked questions so that I lingered. More than once, I thought I had felt something pass between us.
But he left. I had obviously mistaken the signs—he was just a nice guy who had flirting down to a science. With those killer eyes and muscles that went on for miles, it would make more sense.
I doubted a short, curvy, overworked waitress was his style. I imagined he dated tall, voluptuous blondes who looked perfect, even while working out. Maybe he’d been watching me so closely, mentally tabulating the ways he could improve my figure.
I flipped the lock closed and pulled down the blinds, grateful this part of the night was over. I rolled my tired shoulders. I had one more job to do, and then I could head home.
I headed to the kitchen, anxious to be done.
* * *
It was past one when I let myself into the house, my breathing easier once I shut the door behind me. It was a short walk from the bus to the little house, but at this time of night, I always felt relieved when I stepped in the relative safety of the door.
I hung up my coat, slipping off my sneakers and rubbing my feet, wondering if I could stay awake long enough to soak them for a bit.
I rounded the corner, surprised to find Paige awake, flipping through a magazine.
“Everything okay?” I asked anxiously.
She waved her hand. “Yes. Everything is fine. Couldn’t sleep, is all.” She lifted her arms over her head, stretching. “How was work?”
I flung myself on the sofa. “Fine, aside from a jerk-off with wandering hands.”
“Ugh. Did you use your moves?”
I chuckled. “The second time, yes. The first time, a customer stepped in and told him off.”
“That was nice, but apparently he didn’t listen.”
I yawned. “Nope—his ego was too big to hear a word. So, when he tried again, I bent his fingers back.”
She grinned. “Did he squeal?”
“Like a little girl.” I laughed. “With ribbons in her hair.”
She high-fived me. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
I indicated the hall. “They okay?”
“Yes,” she assured me. “They played some video game for a while, and Lucy fell asleep. Evan did some homework and went to bed by ten.” Her voice was tender. “He is so patient with her, showing her the controls—I think he let her win just to make her happy.”
“He’s a good kid. They both are.”
She leaned over and squeezed my hand. “We’re lucky to have you.”
I squeezed her palm back. “We’re lucky to have you.”
“You need to get some sleep. You have an early class tomorrow.”
“I know.” I stood. “I’ll check on Evan and head to bed. I’ll peek in on Lucy too.”
“Thanks.”
I headed down the hall, stopping at Lucy’s room. She was asleep, surrounded by pillows and stuffed animals. Her long dark hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was adorable, clutching her favorite bear. The blankets, as usual, were flung off, and I tucked them back around her, making sure she was warm, even though I knew she’d fling them off again soon enough.
In Evan’s room, I watched him sleep for a few moments, his deep, even breathing helping me to relax. As usual, his room was neat and orderly—exactly the way he liked it. One of his crutches had fallen over, and I placed it upright next to the other one, my smile fading as I did.
I wished he didn’t need them. I wished I could go back to two years ago and change what happened. But that was impossible.
Instead, I bent and tenderly brushed away the hair that fell over his forehead. “Sleep well, kiddo. I love you.”
Then I headed downstairs to bed, somehow feeling the weight of my responsibilities even stronger than usual.
That night, I dreamed of warm green eyes and dimples. Strong arms and a smile so wide it made my heart soar.