Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. It’s been one of those mornings,” I say with yet another awkward laugh.
“Can I take your order?” she asks, giving me a small tilt of her lips that tells me she’s not amused, but her job depends on her being friendly.
“Yes, I’ll take a large black coffee with two sugars, one banana nut muffin and one cinnamon coffee cake muffin.”
“Sorry, the guy before you took the last cinnamon coffee cake. What else can I get you?”
My shoulders sag. Of course, he did. Lucky bastard. “Just two banana nuts,” I say, defeated. Today is just not my day. Pulling my debit card out of my purse, I hand it over and try to give her a kind smile. It’s not her fault. Hell, it’s mine. I never should have suggested my favorite. If I wasn’t fumbling around like an idiot, I might not have. “Thank you,” I say, taking my card back and sliding it into my wallet. She hands me my coffee, and a small bag containing two muffins, and although the banana nut is delicious, I’m not nearly as excited as I was when I walked through the door.
“Have a nice day,” I say politely, turning toward the door. I notice that everyone seems to be looking at the back corner of the room, and that’s when I see him. Landon. The lucky bastard got my muffin. I take a step toward the door and stop. Everyone’s staring at him, no wonder he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Sure, he’s easy on the eyes, but the bastard took my muffin. I take another step, keeping my eyes on him and the bag holding his delicious muffin that sits on the table untouched. He’s drinking what I assume is coffee and scrolling through his phone. He’s not even eating it. Come on, when you have a Seaside Café cinnamon coffee cake muffin within your reach, you don’t ignore it for social media. Before I know what’s happening, my feet are carrying me to him.
Obviously, this little adventure of mine wasn’t planned out. Hence the reason I’m standing next to his table, holding my coffee and my small bag, staring at his bag knowing what’s inside.
“What’s up, Em?” He smirks, setting his phone on the table as he stares up at me. Damn, those eyes.
“So, um, you got the last cinnamon muffin, and I kind of had my heart set on it. I thought maybe I could trade you or we could split it, and I could give you one of my banana nuts?” The words spew from my mouth.
He holds my stare. Those deep cerulean blue eyes seem to be penetrating my soul. I fidget from one foot to the next. I need to get to work, but dammit, I really wanted that muffin.
A slow grin spreads over his face as he raises his hands and motions for me to sit with him. He slides the bag containing all the goodness that is the Seaside Café cinnamon coffee cake muffin.
“Here.” I shove my bag at him. “One of those is for Aubrey,” I tell him.
He pushes it back toward me. “I already ate breakfast. I just stopped for coffee on my way to practice.”
“Then why did you buy the muffin?”
“Truth?”
“Always.”
“I didn’t plan to. You said it was your favorite. I was going to bring it to you today after practice. I didn’t realize I’d bought the last one.” He nods toward the bag. “Eat up, Em.”
Not needing to be told twice, I pull open the bag and lift the muffin, taking a huge bite. So far, this is the best part of this terrible day.
“Why are you grinning?” I ask him after swallowing.
“Date number four.” He smirks.
“What?” I ask, just about to take another large bite.
“This is our fourth meal together.”
“You’re not eating. It doesn’t count.” I feel smug. Taking another big bite, I close my eyes to savor the muffin. When I open them again, Landon’s eyes are watching me intently. He reaches for my bag, pulls out a muffin, and takes a big bite.
His eyes never leave mine as he chews and swallows. His dimples appear. “Date number four, Em.”
“Are you going to be late for practice?” I ask him, changing the subject.
“Are you going to be late for work?” he counters.
“Yeah, but Aubrey knows and besides, she gets a muffin out of the deal.”
“Fair enough.” He pops the last piece of his muffin into his mouth and glances at the time on his phone. “I should get going.” He stands and gathers his trash, as do I. I can finish my muffin on the way to work. I walk toward the door and feel his hand on the small of my back. Reaching around me, he opens the door for me and we exit the café.