Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Because it’s probably been a year since I last visited,” he answered. “I used to belong to a community here in town.” He paused briefly. “If you don’t trust me, which is perfectly natural, I urge you to talk to Reese and Colt—or Lucas, for that matter. They can vouch for me.”
I hadn’t even thought that far. My head was too fucked. Maybe I could send Reese and Lucas a message. But when push came to shove, I wanted nothing more than the promise of Caleb being out of my life, so if this man was offering to turn the tables on Caleb and keep an eye out, who was I to turn that down?
“I’ll message them.” I folded my arms over my chest again, unable to stop shaking. Was it getting colder? “If you’re serious about finding Caleb or making sure he’s not in town, I will graciously accept. Whatever you need. I had to move across the country because of him, and I’m so freaking sick of being afraid.”
“Then we’ll get this taken care of once and for all,” he replied with a nod. “You don’t have to do anything—besides give me a heads-up on where you are. You live upstairs, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. I don’t run many errands. I go to class at GW on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and both days, I’m back here before noon.”
The class on Russian warfare was proving to be a disappointment because half of it was online with no professor present. Professor Aavik was much more involved, with weekly testing and an open-door policy if anyone had questions.
“Oh, um, I have a munch on Sunday,” I added.
Santiago smiled a little. “I guess that’s a good reason for me to attend too.” He gestured at the door. “Let’s get you out of the cold, shall we? I just need to grab my laptop from the truck.”
If he was sticking around, I’d make sure to get him a table, and he wouldn’t pay for a single waffle or coffee or whatever he might want.
It was too soon to be relieved about his presence—considering I’d barely begun processing the mindfuck of this bizarre day—but I liked the words, “Then we’ll get this taken care of once and for all.”
CHAPTER 2
Santiago Jones
“Good morning, Mr. Santiago—I mean, Mr. Jones.”
I looked up from my phone and smiled, surprised to see him so early. He’d told me he started at ten, and it was only seven. “Mornin’, Gael. Santiago’s just fine.”
I’d beaten the breakfast rush.
“Got it—Santiago.” He fumbled with his apron.
“I thought you started later.” I walked over to the tables and noticed he’d put a reserved sign on the one in the back.
“I was going to, but I talked to Kit last night, and apparently you spoke to Colt about coming in early.”
Ah. There we go with the tight-knit communities. Word traveled fast.
“I like to avoid traffic,” I admitted. I’d also woken up worried as fuck, but I could keep that to myself.
Like some goddamn rookie, I’d forgotten to ask Gael when Caleb usually made contact. Day or night? Weekdays or weekends? When he was sober or drunk? Or was it entirely random?
I firmly believed Caleb Larsen was in town.
A young woman walked in, and I recognized her from yesterday. She worked here too.
“Hey, Gael.” She went behind the counter as I took my seat and brought out my laptop.
“Hi. You can have breakfast first,” Gael responded.
“Cool, thanks.” The woman disappeared into the back.
Gael turned back to me, and it seemed he couldn’t stop fidgeting. He was definitely on the shy side, and it was highly possible someone had turned him into that.
“Can I get you some coffee, sir?” he asked. “And breakfast, maybe?”
He was too fucking cute. He’d been as accommodating yesterday.
“It’s a bit early for breakfast for me, but I won’t say no to coffee,” I answered.
He nodded and got cracking by the coffee machine. “Con leche, right?” He smiled awkwardly. “That’s what you said yesterday. I-I don’t speak Spanish beyond tourist stuff.”
I chuckled to myself, wondering how the hell I was gonna get any work done. “Good to know.”
He busied himself making coffee but kept glancing my way, only to avert his gaze whenever I caught him. I hadn’t looked away once, highly entertained. And a little hooked—but I’d been that since I’d first looked into his background last fall.
Under different circumstances, I would’ve asked him out to dinner or drinks already. I hadn’t dug very deep since I’d been more interested in finding information about his asshole ex, but I’d stumbled across enough bits and pieces to know he was ticking a lot of boxes for me. Unbelievably cute, beautiful pale blue eyes, on the Little spectrum, smart as hell—it was possible I’d observed him in Mclean House’s online forum. Well-read, polite, sweet. The kinks he’d listed as being curious about included group play, somnophilia, wax play, servitude, and “being Daddy’s goofball.”