Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
I open my fridge to see that it’s completely bare. Then I check the pantry, and it’s equally empty. Not having much of a choice, I slip on my boots and grab my bag. It’s too late to go to the store, and I don’t have a car to drive out of town. A car isn’t really necessary most of the time since I can walk to the places I need to get to.
The Nutmeg Diner is close and open, so it will have to suffice for tonight. Thankfully, it’s not snowing, but as I make my way down the street, I can feel the cold setting in. I wave to a few people who pass by, and they do the same. That’s one of the things I love about home. I would have gotten a middle finger in my face back in the city.
“Hey, Bronte,” Kristin calls to me as I enter the diner.
“Hi,” I say while searching for a seat.
“Cherry Coke?”
“Yes, please.” I spot a table by a window, and Kristin comes right over with my drink.
"Out of food again?" she gently teases me. Okay, yes, I forget to go grocery shopping a lot too.
"Maybe I missed you." I push my glasses up my nose, and she grins.
"We can go with that if you want." Kristin pulls out her pad. "Hit me."
I know the menu by heart, so there’s no need for the song and dance.
"Crinkle fries, mozzarella sticks, and..." I trail off, knowing I want more but not sure what.
"Nachos?" she offers.
“Yes!"
"All right," Kristin laughs, scribbling it down before going to fill coffees. I reach into my purse and retrieve my phone, along with my knitting needles and the scarf I keep in there. I work on it whenever I’m out and have downtime. I’m not big on the whole social media thing, so this gives me something to do.
My mind wanders while I knit, so it’s relaxing. Oftentimes if I’m stuck on a project for work, the answer will randomly pop into my head if I just knit a few rows.
"You're almost done with that one," Kristin says as she sets my mozzarella sticks and nachos down.
The bell over the diner’s entrance goes off, drawing our attention.
“Whew. I thought I was only into cowboys,” Kristin says to me under her breath. “I guess a man in a suit isn't so bad.”
Kristin is only teasing. She and Kent have been married for a few years. Still, I can’t help the jealousy that flares to life inside of me. I hate the feeling because I don’t much care for the man in the suit. Marcus Xander.
Dang it, I’m cornered. I can’t jump up and run out of here, so instead I do the only thing I can think of. I grab a cheese-covered chip and shove it into my mouth. Then I try my best to ignore him.
The problem is he’s making that nearly impossible because he’s coming this way.
Chapter Two
MARCUS
“Is it merely my presence that makes you scowl or that I might try and eat one of your nachos?”
I don’t miss the way Bronte pulls the plate a little closer to her as I drape my coat across the back of the empty seat across from her.
“That’s not a coat rack.”
She narrows her eyes as I grin at her and pull out the empty seat. I don’t break eye contact with her as I make a show of sitting down and leaning back.
“Do you need a menu?” the waitress asks, and Bronte lets out the cutest little growl.
“I’ll have a cherry Coke,” I say to her, but my eyes are still on Bronte.
“Stop copying me,” Bronte hisses, and while she’s distracted, I reach for a nacho. She tries to smack my hand away, but she’s too late.
“Can I get you something to eat or will you be sharing?” the waitress asks, but before I can answer, Bronte kicks me under the table.
“He can get his own food, Kristin,” Bronte says.
“Are you wearing heels?” I raise an eyebrow at Bronte, and I see her cheeks flush a little. “Oh, and I’ll have whatever she likes.”
“Sounds good.” Kristin places my drink in front of me and leaves the two of us alone.
“There are plenty of other places to sit.” Bronte scowls like she’s personally offended by my presence.
“True. But none of them has this view.” I manage to steal a mozzarella stick out of the basket before she can stab me with her fork. “Besides I wanted to talk to you.”
“And you just so happened to find me here tonight?”
“No, I went to your house first.” Her cup pauses right before the straw touches her lips. “I heard you might be in need of a job.”
“What?” She sets her drink down and glares across the table. “How did you know about that? I just found out myself.”