Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
It takes another hour for her to fall asleep. I read through my messages. Cara’s locked up in one of the rooms, coked out. Rehab’s a must.
I reply back, Get it done. I need to go to the diner. Someone needs to patrol my area. That’s all. No one enters my home, and she doesn’t leave.
Understood.
Looking at the clock, I have two hours left before I have to be in. It’ll take me only ten minutes to get to the diner, so a good nap will do me a lot of good. I close my eyes and pass out on the sofa until my dog starts licking my face. I look at the clock and see I’m going to be running a bit behind. It’s probably the first time in my life. After getting ready to leave, I take the dogs out into the yard and then come back in to steal another look at my woman. I press my lips to her temple before getting up to get ready for work. As I’m about to leave, I write her a note and leave it on the nightstand. Stealing another peck on her forehead, I leave. I meet outside with one of the prospects, Jaxon. The tension rolls off me as I give him my command. “No one goes in or out. Understood?”
“Yes, Rooster. I’ve got my orders.”
“Good. Thanks, Jax.” I clap his back and hurry down the stairs.
I hop in my truck because it’s starting to rain. It’s been a balmy end to the winter, but it happens and I wonder if we’ll get another bout of snow before spring kicks in. When I get to the diner, Rosie, Heather, Ernesto, and Richie are prepping to open. “Everything okay? We actually beat you in to work.”
“Yes, Rosie. I had some matters to attend to.”
“Is Clover coming in today?” Ernesto asks.
“No, but that reminds me—St. Patrick’s Day is in a couple of days. Start decorating. How are we on the ingredients for Corned Beef and Reubens?” I question Ernesto, who keeps track of all the supplies that come in. We have three cooks, but he’s my number one.
“Our produce delivery arrives tomorrow and should have everything we need to meet the demand.”
“Good, good. We have fifteen minutes until open. Anything else need to be done?” I question, brows raised.
They scatter, knowing that I’m not really asking. If we have a few minutes, we need to be ready. I can smell the first round of hash browns and sausage cooking. I head into my office while Heather makes the coffee and Rosie sets up the register. We run a well-oiled machine, but now I’m fucking it all up. I head in back and start processing the payroll, which is due for next week’s checks.
As the rush comes in, I do my thing and take over the register to deal with the counter guests. I watch the crowd for anyone eyeing me suspiciously. Still, only two cops stop by for a quick breakfast before leaving without making a scene. I watch the clock more than I should, but I’m itching to see Clover and make sure she’s okay.
8
Clover
Groggily, I sigh and stretch, nearly falling off the bed. I stop myself only to realize I’m on a bed, not on the sofa at my cousin's. I pull off the blankets and see that I’m still in the clothes I wore last night. Plopping my head back on the pillow, I stare up at the ceiling. Where am I?
My eyes slam shut as the night comes back to me. I was all over my boss. Now I’m in his bed. I sit straight up when I see the sun is already up and it’s past the time for the diner to be open—I wonder if I’ll have a job to go to tomorrow after all the mess I pulled last night.
I roll to get off the bed, and a piece of paper falls on the floor. Scooping it up, it says, Clover, sleep in. I’ll see you at three.
I look at the clock on the nightstand, thinking that it can’t be right. It’s already ten minutes after noon. I climb out of bed, putting my feet on the floor, and suddenly my head’s pounding and my mouth is dry as hell. I need some water. I open the door to find his two dogs wagging their tails for my attention. “Good morning, puppies.” I forget their names, but then again, I can barely remember what happened last night. I pad through his house, find the kitchen, pull a clean glass out of his strainer, and turn on the tap. I drink down the water like I haven’t had water in days. Leaning against the counter with my two buddies at my side, l see their dog bowls. One says “Links” and the other “Cakes.” Now I remember.