Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
A couple seconds later, the elevator doors opened and we stepped in. As it jolted, starting its descent, my eyes met Grace’s and we both laughed, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Here I was riding an elevator with Grace Hamilton again. Life is fucking wild.
We walked to the entrance to the strip. It was December and the air was cool, but not cold, perfect walking weather.
“Do you come to the Strip a lot?” I asked as we headed toward the restaurant.
“Rarely. My best friend, Abby, and her husband came in for Thanksgiving and I took them here to see the sights, but Abby’s pregnant so it was the tame Vegas tour.”
“The roommate you lived with when I first met you, right?”
She glanced over at me, looking slightly surprised, and nodded.
“Your fiancé doesn’t ever take you to get a hot dog?” I had to bring him up. I had to know what her relationship with him was like. The word itself, fiancé, told a story. But it didn’t necessarily tell the whole story.
She was quiet for a beat, then two. “Alex is more of a homebody, I guess you’d say,” is all she said, but I thought a look of disappointment swept over her features. Interesting. That hope again. Engaged ain’t married.
We got to the restaurant and Grace grinned as she walked through the door I held open. The hostess led us to a table, and I pulled Grace’s chair out for her. “Milady,” I said with a slight bow.
She laughed as I scooted her close to the table and took my own seat. When the waiter came over, we both ordered a beer.
“So tell me more about why you decided to become a prosecutor,” I said.
She looked down and played with her napkin for a minute before responding, “Actually, Carson, I have you to thank for that. After we talked about it here”—she waved her arm toward the window, indicating Vegas—“I realized that it was what I really wanted. And I made it happen. So…thank you.”
I leaned back in my chair and smiled. “Really?” I’d recalled our conversation about her secret career aspirations and briefly wondered if I’d influenced her decision at all, but I hadn’t realized what happiness it would bring me to hear her confirm it.
“Yeah, really.” She smiled. “Anyway, I took my first job in DC but there just weren’t any openings in the court I wanted to be in, and so I started applying to different cities and ended up here. And I love it. I really, really love it.”
“That’s great, Grace.”
She continued to fiddle with her napkin, a worried look coming over her face. “Speaking of my job… Your friend—”
I tensed. “We can talk about that another time, okay? It’s a weird situation, but…let’s just catch up tonight.” I’d been going over the situation with Josh all day, every day. I needed a mental break. And I wanted the opportunity to get reacquainted with Grace without all that hanging over us. That probably wouldn’t be possible for much longer, and so I was going to actively keep it at bay tonight.
She nodded slowly, pressing her lips together. The waiter delivered our beers and took our orders, saving us from any more awkwardness.
When the waiter walked away, Grace said, “That’s what you ordered the last time.”
“I know. You ordered the same thing too.”
She nodded and laughed.
I held my beer up. “To fate,” I said. “She’s a tricky bitch.” I meant that in more ways than I could explain. Even to myself.
She huffed out a breath and raised her eyebrows. “That’s for dang sure,” she said and clinked my bottle.
Our food came a few minutes later and Grace dove right in. “See,” she said around a mouthful of chili cheese dog, “I learned from last time.”
I laughed at her and dove into mine too. I could feel cheese sticking to my chin and something gloppy on the side of my mouth.
Grace shook her head at me, her eyes dancing. “How in the world are you not taken yet, Carson Stinger?” she asked on a laugh. I grinned and used my finger to bring the cheese to my mouth, and then watched as the smile faded from her face and she just kept looking at me, blinking as I wiped my chin with my napkin. Her eyes took on a sort-of faraway look as she licked her bottom lip. At that small gesture, I felt my cock jump in my pants. Fuck.
“Grace—” I started.
“So!” she said brightly, crossing her legs under the table. “This was a really good idea. I need to eat more hot dogs.” She stopped and furrowed her brow. “I mean, you know, you can never eat too many hot dogs.” Her frown deepened. “I mean, you probably can. There is probably a recommended hot dog limit.” She waved her hand around. “Phosphates and all that, but what I mean is I fall too far beneath—”