Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
The woman behind the counter looked up and smiled at him. Sail’s steps faltered, and he walked, intent on bypassing the counter and heading straight for his father’s office. He swallowed hard as his heart thumped in his chest faster than he was used to.
What was happening?
She continued to smile. “Hey there,” she said, as if she’d met him before. “Take a seat anywhere and I’ll bring you a menu.”
The only option in Sail’s mind was to sit at the counter where he could stare at her. Somehow, his feet did what they were intended for and moved his body to one of the red vinyl stools. He sat, rested his hands on the tabletop, and soaked her in.
She was . . . breathtaking. Being in her presence, Sail found himself tongue-tied, and that never happened. He’d never been one to use words like beautiful or gorgeous or have his heart thump wildly in his chest. Neither of those seemed fitting for Galvin. Sail saw her as stunning. She glowed like a goddess princess, as if the sun had been made to follow her around. If he had to put money on anything, he’d bet Galvin didn’t have a clue to how she affected in those few short minutes of interaction.
Her long, chestnut brown hair swayed from side-to-side as she walked, and when she casually looked over her shoulder at him, he was thankful he didn’t look away because he would’ve missed her blushing.
“Sweet mercy,” he muttered as he discreetly adjusted himself under the counter. Never, in all his years of finding the opposite sex attractive, had he ever been so besotted at the sight of someone.
He was in trouble.
He never took his eyes off her as she talked to the other patrons in the diner. He figured she was about five foot five or six, which to him was perfect. Short enough he could gaze down at her, but not tower over him if she were to put heels on.
Sail shook his head. Why was he thinking about her in heels? He didn’t even know her. But he wanted to. He could see them sitting in a booth, late at night, sharing a piece of apple pie and drinking coffee or hot chocolate. Sail saw himself twirling a piece of her long—what he could only describe as dark, creamy caramel—hair. The urge to run his fingers through those silky strands had him sitting on his hands.
She walked by, smiled at him again, and then made her way behind the counter, where she added the chit to the cook's board. She turned, with her bright grin still in place, and set a menu in front of Sail.
Their gaze never wavered, locked solely on each other.
“What’s your name?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Galvin.”
“Galvin.” Her name escaped his mouth in a breathless whisper. It was unique and one he hadn’t heard before. He loved that she wasn’t an Emma, Olivia, or Taylor. All names of women he knew at school by the multiples.
Her cheeks blushed, which he could only assume was because of him. Her doe-brown eyes went to the menu and then back to his. “Something to drink while you look over the menu?”
“I know what I want.” Sail’s finger nudged the menu toward her. He had it memorized and unless his father changed it drastically, his favorite would still be on there.
“You’ve been here before?” Galvin held the ticket pad in her right hand and the classic ballpoint pen his parents stocked at every establishment they owned in her left. He’d never dated a lefty before. Not that he ever truly noticed.
Not that they were going to date.
The last thought caused him to frown. There was a laundry list of reasons Galvin should stay away from the likes of him. He was on the cusp of being disowned and wouldn’t have a pot to piss in. What could he even offer her?
Not a thing.
Galvin leaned her hip against the counter, bringing herself closer to Sail. He inhaled and immediately regretted it. He knew all about pheromones and what they did to a man. The evidence stirred in his pants now. He cleared his throat and adjusted the way he sat on the stool without taking his eyes off hers. Her eyebrows rose, and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.
“Sorry, yes. I’ve been here before.”
Galvin nodded, her smile never fading. “So, what can I get you, then?”
“I—” he cleared his throat. “I’d like a Coke, please.”
“And to eat?”
“Uh . . .” He knew this menu like the back of his hand. This inability to recall its contents bothered him.
“Let me get your drink while you decide.”
She pushed it forward again and left to get his drink. Even though she was gone only seconds, and he could watch her the entire time, it felt like it took her hours to put ice in the glass and hold it under the stream of carbonated soda. When she brought it, she set it down in front of him and put a straw next to the glass.