Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I refused to admit it was because I was heading home alone instead of eating with Dante.
I shut my eyes as I realized that even the thought of his name caused a shiver to run down my back.
His voice startled me. “Do you not understand English, Little Bee? Or do you like to try to test my patience?”
Again, that odd swell of relief flooded my chest. He was here.
I opened my eyes and met his gaze. He was behind the wheel of the red SUV, his head tilted, a deep frown on his face.
“I said I’d pick you up.”
“I never agreed,” I responded and turned my back. I knew I was acting like my cat. If I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me either. But maybe he’d go away.
I heard the sound of a door opening and measured footsteps. Then he was behind me.
“I didn’t ask,” he said, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me as if I weighed nothing.
I gasped in outrage as he swung around and took the few steps needed to place me in the vehicle. He carried me in much the same fashion as I used to carry my dolls. Legs hanging, pressed tight to my chest, not giving them the chance to fall. I couldn’t move until he deposited me in the seat.
“You-you high-handed, cupcake-stealing…motherplucker!”
“Motherplucker? Oh, you wound me,” he said with a laugh, leaning over me and snapping my seat belt closed. Our faces were so close, he could have kissed me. His gaze dropped to my lips, and then he met my eyes again. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming. He ran a finger down my cheek then tapped the end of my nose.
“Extraordinary,” he whispered.
He stepped back, shutting the door and, with a smirk, engaging the locks. I glared as he unlocked his door and slid in.
“Comfy, Little Bee?”
I shivered, not responding.
He hit a button, and suddenly the heat surrounded me, wafting from the vents, the smooth leather I was sitting on warming me.
“Oh,” I mumbled, instantly feeling better.
“Warmer?”
“Much.”
“Good. Relax. We’ll be at the restaurant in a few moments.”
“I am not having dinner with you.”
“Give me three good reasons why not, and I’ll take you home,” he said calmly, pulling away from the curb.
“First off, I don’t know you.”
“Dinner can help rectify that.”
“Secondly, perhaps I already have plans.”
He laughed. “You don’t.”
“And last, I am hardly dressed for dinner. I am sure the establishments you frequent could pay my rent for a month, so I cannot walk into one of those restaurants looking like this.”
He pulled into a driveway, indicating the building. “Three strikes, you’re out.”
I looked at the sign, shocked. It was my favorite little family diner. Good food, inexpensive, and casual.
How had he chosen this restaurant? What were the odds? I was confused. Curious. Secretly pleased.
He parked the car and turned to look at me.
“I would take you anywhere and be proud to be seen with you. I think you’re lovely, and frankly, my opinion is the only one that matters. But I know you like it here, so this is where we will eat.”
“But—”
He held up his hand, silencing me. “Have dinner with me, Little Bee. I have a business proposition for you. I think you’ll be interested.”
I hesitated, and he leaned closer.
“Please.”
“Okay,” I agreed grudgingly. “But only because I’m hungry and I like it here.”
He grinned. “Whatever you need to tell yourself. Stay there.”
He slid from the car and came to my side, opening the door. He held out his hand, and I let him help me from my seat. I hated the urge to lean into him, to inhale his scent. He didn’t seem to share my opinion, burying his face into my neck and breathing deeply.
“So fucking sweet,” he muttered.
“It’s the sugar.”
“It’s you,” he replied. “Now, come. I don’t want you cold again.”
I hated that those words pleased me so much.
But I let him lead me into the restaurant.
Chapter Six
BRIANNA
He was out of place again. Too rich, too good-looking, too…everything to be inside this diner. But within five minutes, he’d charmed Gladys and Molly, and we sat in the back booth. The one usually reserved for family. He somehow managed to look as if he belonged there, even though I knew he clearly didn’t. There were other diners, and the restaurant smelled delicious as always.
He asked for a cup of coffee and water. I got my usual cherry vanilla Coke. I loved it, and they were one of the few that had it in their fountain machine.
He took a sip of coffee and lifted his eyebrows. “This is delicious.”
“They grind their own beans and make it fresh all day.”
“Better than the bakery stuff.”
I snorted. “MaryJo uses the cheapest of everything she can.”
“Why do you work there?”
“It wasn’t so bad when I started. Her brother ran the bakery, and he was a good boss. MaryJo was always in the background. He taught me a lot. When he died, she took over. By then, I had started my cake decorating and had some customers. He always let me use the equipment and the space for almost nothing.”