Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Woah. Not what I expected. “Apologize?” I put my hands on my hips, eyebrows knitting together in genuine confusion. “If anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing for running out on you."
He leans forward, those sapphire eyes capturing mine. “I can see we really need to talk, little treat, and there’s no way I’m letting you get away from me a second time.” Intense Sullivan is way the heck more dangerous to my heart than the teasing version I met last night. I swallow, not knowing how to handle him like this. He’s laying it out, unabashed, holding none of his cards too close to his chest.
Something shifts between us, a silent agreement hanging in the air along with the memory of our last encounter among the stockroom shadows. “I know… but I can’t have this conversation at work.” I fell in love with this crazy town the first moment I stepped foot in it, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize my job or future in Midnight Falls.
Sullivan leans against the bar, his demeanor a mix of roguish and charming, like a hero straight out of a romance book—only I never imagined those dreamy characters making my heart pound faster than a bat in a belfry. The air between us feels charged with something new, something electric, and I decide it’s time to stop overthinking everything and jump in with both feet.
“Would you have dinner with me,” he starts, his voice cutting through the air surrounding us like warm butter, “so we can discuss things?”
“Like a date?” I don’t want any other confusion or misunderstandings between us.
“Yes. The first of many I plan to have with you.” I'm lost in those striking blue eyes that brim with a sincerity that sends my heart into a little happy dance.
“And if I say no?” I can’t help myself—arguing is in my blood.
“Then I’d have to find a way to change your mind.” His words send electricity flowing down my spine as I fight the urge to beg him to try.
"Oh. Then I guess I’ll save you the trouble and just say yes.” I mean, I wasn’t really going to turn him down.
He blinks in surprise and then chuckles. "I was already gearing up with a list of counterpoints for your arguments."
"I do enjoy a good argument," I admit with a shrug.
"And I enjoy arguing with you," he replies with a grin. "See all we have in common?” I want to kiss his soft, warm lips again more than I want my next breath. “So, when's your next night off?"
“Tomorrow,” I reply, trying to sound casual, but there's a thrill threading through my voice that I can't quite hide. Why pretend though? He seems to like my real self more than any masked version I might come up with, anyway.
“Perfect.” He grins, bestowing on me that dazzling, slightly mischievous grin that could probably melt glaciers faster than climate change. “How about dinner at my house?”
My brain does a quick, anxious flip. Alone at his house. Swallowing, I throw caution to the wind. “Dinner sounds great,” I say, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush moving across my face.
“Great!” Sullivan replies, looking genuinely happy and a little relieved at my agreement. “I’ll pick you up around seven if that works?”
“I can do seven, but I’ll drive myself to your house.” My older sister would kick my rear end if I let a guy I just met pick me up. Even if he’s a billionaire. I can hear her safety-first speech echoing through my mind.
He opens his mouth and closes it before taking a deep breath and agreeing. “If you insist on driving, I’ll give you my address.” He takes my phone from me and types his address in my notes app.
With our plans set, he leans over the bar to give me a quick, panty-melting kiss before leaving. After he walks out, the air seems to lose some of its spark. But there’s an indelible excitement left behind, reminding me that this is good, right? I mean, it’s only my freaking heart and soul at risk. No big deal at all.
I return to my bar duties with a new kind of energy, popping caps off bottles and slinging jokes to patrons with ease. But as I’m mentally running through my wardrobe options for tomorrow night, out comes Tony, lumbering from his office with a look of concern visibly written on his face.
“Romi,” he leans close so no one else can hear our conversation, “is Sullivan Midnight bothering you?”
Tony’s a big bear of a man, and his concern for his staff is unmatched. He might come across as gruff, but he once gave me the day off when my landlady’s cat got stuck in a tree, so I’ve got a soft spot for the guy. His usual scruffy demeanor is earnest, and I know he’d sooner run through a fire than let anyone mess around with his crew.