Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I head into my walk-in closet, grab a pair of straight-leg jeans and, instead of a blouse, I choose a V-neck sweater. It’s October, and the weather is a bit brisk today. I throw some suede booties on my feet, grab a light jacket, and I’m ready to go.
I walk out, head to Dragon’s door, but then hear his voice.
“I’m over here.”
He’s in the large living area, sitting on my leather couch.
Again, I’m struck by how good he looks. What a handsome man he is, even with his long hair.
He took it out of its band, and it’s floating around his shoulders in stark contrast to the white stripes on his shirt.
“Don’t you want to wear a jacket?” I ask.
“I was good when I went out to the market earlier.”
“Okay, if you say so. But it’s a little brisk.”
“I’ll be fine.”
We don’t say anything else as we leave the penthouse and descend in the elevator. When we walk past security, I grab his arm. “I forgot to tell you. I need you to stop at security and show them your ID.”
“What for?”
“They need the information for you to stay here. To give you a key.”
He furrows his brow. “You already gave me a key.”
“I know, but they gave it to me on the condition that you come down and show your ID.”
“You want me to do it now?”
“No. It’s after five on a Saturday, so the office manager is gone. You’ll need to do it Monday, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
Great. Now he’s going to think that I don’t trust him again. That I want his ID on file in case he robs me blind or something. But this is the building’s policy, not mine. And the lock on my door is just common sense…
Whatever. I’m not going to think about it. He’s lucky to be staying with me, so I really shouldn’t sweat the minutiae of his every feeling. If I had taken any other guy I barely knew in, I wouldn’t be worrying about how he reacted to my every move.
Why do I care with Dragon?
I shake the thoughts out of my head. He’s taking me to dinner, which means he at least wants to demonstrate his gratitude. I won’t worry anymore.
We leave the building, and I wave to Steve, who’s still on duty.
“That your new housemate?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I motion Dragon over. “This is Dragon Locke. Dragon, this is Steve. One of our security officers.”
“Good to meet you.” Steve holds out his hand.
Dragon shakes it. “Yeah, you too.”
“Usually takes me a few days to remember names of our new residents, but I don’t think Dragon is one I’ll forget.” Steve lets out a chuckle.
Dragon doesn’t react. I’d bet he’s heard that joke hundreds of times.
“That’s what it says on my birth certificate,” Dragon drawls as he heads to the door.
I give Steve a weak and apologetic smile and follow Dragon out the door.
The diner, which is aptly called the Rocky Mountain Diner, is about a block and half down, and I’m oddly touched when, as we start walking, Dragon moves himself to my other side, blocking me from the street. I’m used to being treated like a lady. All the men in my family have been brought up to be gentlemen. But admittedly, I didn’t expect such chivalrous behavior from Dragon.
We get to the diner, and he also opens the door for me.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
The diner is already full, so we head to the host’s stand. “Hi, how long for a table for two?” I ask.
He glances down. “Looks like it’s going to be about twenty-five to thirty minutes. Is that okay?” Then he spies Dragon behind me. “Hey, dude. Where you been?”
“Back on the western slope for a few weeks. Had a wedding to attend.”
“Great to have you back. You want your usual table?”
“Sure, if it’s open.”
The host—his nametag says Tex, of all things—glances around toward the back of the diner. “Looks like Lexi’s cleaning it right now. I’ll get you two seated in a minute.”
“Wait a minute,” I say. “You just told me half an hour.”
“That’s before I knew you were with Dragon here.” He nods in Dragon’s direction, smiling. “He’s a regular. We always have a table for him.”
I widen my eyes and look at Dragon.
He simply shrugs.
A few minutes later, Tex leads us back around the corner to a tiny booth. “You can see why this place is always available,” Tex says to me. “Sometimes we don’t even use it—only when we’re incredibly busy like tonight.”
The booth indeed has seen better days. The plastic coating on the table is cracked, and the vinyl covering the two benches is ripped. It’s smaller too—a booth for two as opposed to the other booths that seat four or six.
“Have you been here before?” Tex asks me.
“Afraid I haven’t. But I’m looking forward to it.”