Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
“Sure thing,” she replies, walking around the counter to the dessert cooler. She hands it over the counter to be warmed up. I can smell it from here, and my mouth is already watering.
At this rate, Zoe Cooper is getting more and more interesting. When I inquired about her to Niko, he all but shoved the folder at me. I’m sure he thought I would be turned off by what I read. He wants no part of me talking to his fiancée’s best friend. Reading through it, I found out Zoe wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth, which meant we have even more in common than I thought, and I like that.
It didn’t take me much time at all to read through the school records with references and charter submissions from the school she and Emilia just graduated from. The woman is almost too good to be true. I felt it when I laid eyes on her, but now I know it to be true.
A few minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I see Zoe walk out of the kitchen carrying a tray of food. She stops at the table behind me, chatting amicably with the customers, laughing about something, and I can barely contain my excitement. She’s chatting with them like they are regulars, and it’s likely they are.
“Here you go,” Zoe says, setting the pie in front of me. I can tell the second she realizes who I am. Her stare is so intense that my body instantly reacts. My dick presses against my slacks so hard it’s painful. I welcome the feeling. It helps me focus and stay in control. Without that, I’d likely throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of here. The heat in her stare matches the feelings I have for her, even if she’s not willing to admit it yet.
“Thank you,” I smile as I cut a piece and shove it in my mouth. A moan of appreciation leaves me as she stands there glaring, holding the tray to her side.
“Are you stalking me?” she hisses, lowering her voice enough that only I hear it.
“I’m an attorney, so I can’t answer that question. I plead the fifth,” I respond, deadpanning.
“What are you doing here?” Zoe demands.
I grin up at her. “Well, right now? I’m here to eat your pie.”
Her mouth hangs open in surprise. She snaps it shut as a blush creeps into her cheeks. All I can do is grin at her before taking another bite.
“This is damn good,” I practically groan. The crust is flaky and buttery, while the apple is sweet and tart. That, with the vanilla ice cream, is heaven on a plate.
“You need to leave.”
“I will,” I tell her.
Zoe seems surprised by my compliance. “Good—”
“As soon as you agree to go out with me.”
“You need to give up,” she insists.
“No way.” I shake my head as she looks around.
“You don’t fit in my world,” she says, waving a hand in front of her.
“Oh, but I do. Better than you know.”
“You’re obviously delusional.”
“Go out with me. Give me a chance. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll bow out, and you’ll never have to see me again,” I tell her, holding her eye contact to convey how serious I am.
“I can’t tonight. I’m working.” Zoe holds up the tray as if I didn’t already know. “If you leave and stop bothering me, I might agree to have coffee with you on Saturday.”
Is that a yes? I hold myself still, so I don’t pump my fist into the air triumphantly.
“Change coffee to dinner and drinks, Zoe. Then I’ll leave,” I counter, pointing my fork at her. I can’t seem to stop eating, even as we discuss our soon-to-be date. The pie is just that good.
“You never know when to stop,” Zoe says, shaking her head. Her high ponytail rustles with the movement. Her hair looks good up, but down is my favorite, just like the first night I saw her.
“Not when it matters, and you definitely matter,” I tell her in complete seriousness. I know she doesn’t believe me, but I will spend all my time showing her otherwise.
“Sell those lines somewhere else, Casanova, ‘cause I’m not buying.” She rolls her eyes for good measure.
“Dinner and drinks.” I quirk an eyebrow, knowing I’m great with bartering and hoping my magic will work here too, but it only makes her frown.
“Lunch and coffee.”
I laugh, holding up my hands, and surrender. “Fine. I’ll pick you up Saturday at noon at your place.”
“I’ll meet you Saturday at Angel’s in Palatka at noon,” she argues. Damn, Zoe would be a better lawyer than I am—and I’m one of the best, even if I do say so myself.
“Angel’s?” I ask.
“Yeah, is that problem?” Zoe quips. “Too pedestrian for you?”