Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
They’re regulars, and they go back to their food and drinks in no time, but I still feel a subtle rise of emotion. I don’t know what the emotion is, but I ignore it when she answers that she’ll have a pale ale.
“You got it.” I move to the bottled beers. She likes the lighter variety with a bit of citrus. One night she went through nearly every pale ale on a mission to find her favorite. The cap pops off, and I toss it into the trash before handing her the cool bottle.
“You want a glass?” I offer even though I’m sure she doesn’t.
Shaking her head, she answers “Nope,” and reaches for the beer. Her fingers brush against my hand, and a shock goes through me. A heated current, lights my blood aflame. There’s no reason for it. It was only the barest of touches, but holy hell the sparks were there.
A violent blush heats her face and I wonder if she felt it, too. I wait a second as she clears her throat and looks away, shier than normal, despite being dressed to the nines in some sexy outfit I've never seen before, some dark red pants and a light cream blouse.
“Charlie!” I almost flinch at the sound of my name, snapping me back to the present. Frankie calls my name from down the bar. He’s at the very end, but he didn’t have to yell so damn loud.
“Yeah?” I have to turn away from Grace to stride toward him, which is probably good all things considered with how she looked away when our fingers touched. My skin feels hotter with every second that passes. I want to turn around and I can feel her gorgeous eyes on me, willing me to look at her.
“One more?” he asks me, rather than tells me.
I lean against the bar and shrug. “Whatever you want.”
He nods as he pushes his empty beer bottle toward me. It takes me less than a minute to get him another drink.
The back doors creaks behind me, signifying Maggie coming out of the back, letting the one double door swing open and shut carelessly as she balances Grace’s order in her hands.
I'm quick to grab the plate with both hands to help Maggie out.
“I got it,” I tell her even as the skeptical look hits her eyes and tilted brow. Maggie wipes both of her hands on her apron and nods, the look not leaving her even as she leaves me to go back to the kitchen.
The smell of the fries and chicken and bacon wakes me right the fuck up. I’m still full from dinner, but I’m definitely going to snag a few fries from Grace.
A smile crosses my lips as I set the plate down in front of her, remembering the first time she ordered the Tuesday special. She practically threatened me if I didn’t eat a few fries with her.
It was the second night she came in here. I remember the first because she came with a friend. She’s almost Grace’s opposite. I remember thinking it didn’t make sense that the two of them would be friends. There was a third one with them, but she left early. Leaving the loud blonde and an embarrassed Grace.
The next night, Grace came back alone, and I have to admit I was curious about her. She must’ve overheard me tell someone I hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
That happens a lot when you’re managing so much. Time just slips by.
She called me over and said it was too much food for her. I politely declined, but she wasn’t having it. This sweet little thing told me I had to eat, and she’d tell my manager on me if I didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so wide before.
She really is a sweetheart.
“So you’re having a bad day?” I ask her. I pull my barstool over to her, grateful to sit down and think about something other than work and my mother’s text. If she’s not here by 6 maybe 6:30, I assume she’s not coming by. Sometimes she surprises me with a later arrival, like tonight. She’s here a little earlier than the rush and thankfully James actually came in tonight. I’ve got time and now a spare man for tonight. There was no way I was going to put him on the schedule without having back up in case he didn’t show. I told him there’s a three strike system now, he’s already got one down. He’ll either shape up, or ship out.
Grace rolls her eyes before grabbing a chicken tender. As she starts to talk, I realize I forgot the salt. That woman likes her salt.
“So I went out on a date tonight.” She lets out a heavy sigh as I leave her for all of three seconds to grab the salt and pepper, even though she won’t use it, and I feel my jaw clench a little tighter at the word, ‘date.’