Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I did, but only because the weather dictated whether or not I could do my job.
It got to be a habit even when I was off. However, today I hadn’t done that.
We walked in companionable silence to the gate, and it wasn’t the type of silence that was awkward or stiff. This was a comfortable silence only those who are quiet people could find peace in.
When we got there, he went to the gate agent, and I went to the very corner of the room, away from everyone and everything, and holed up in one of three chairs tucked away in the alcove.
I didn’t bother to hide how I was watching the man at the gate.
I just allowed myself to gorge on him.
Jesus, even his clothes were sexy.
He had on jeans that looked like they’d been whitewashed, but you could tell the distressed nature of the fabric wasn’t due to buying them at the store that way. His brown work boots would attest to that fact. The charcoal gray Henley he had on was molded to his chest, back, and arms perfectly, letting me know I wasn’t wrong earlier in my assumption that he worked out a lot.
Or did manual work.
I wondered if he was in construction or something…
CHAPTER 3
I’m sick of following my dreams. I want to ask where they’re going and hook up with them at a later date.
-Keene to Ande
KEENE
“Thank you so, so much for finding me a seat.” The woman in front of me batted her eyes, looking for all she’s worth as if she’d just totally gypped the guy at the counter out of something important, just by using her looks.
“Oh, it’s no problem. The flight wasn’t full. There is one seat in first class that’s right here just waiting.” The man smiled shyly at her.
The lady left with her boarding pass, not sparing the poor chump another look.
I handed over my pass, and he quickly lost the charming smile and replaced it with one of blankness.
“I got a message on my app saying I need to stop by for a seat assignment,” I said. “I already paid for one in first class, though.”
I’d already chosen it, too, in fact.
Which pissed me off even more.
A man the size of me—six foot three definitely had its advantages and all, but shit was it hard to fit on airplanes—didn’t do tight seating. I’d not been able to fly in economy since I was a teen.
“Oh,” he frowned. Then looked up my information using my ID that I provided for him without him having to ask.
He suddenly got really flushed and looked around as if he’d just made a huge mistake.
“Uhh,” he hesitated. “Just give me a short second.”
I had a feeling he was about to piss me off. Really badly.
The man behind the counter stared at me. “I’m sorry, sir, but there are no more available seats.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I already paid for the ticket, sir. I even paid extra for the seat in first class. How do you just run out of seats?”
The guy looked at me with wide eyes, and I knew that my anger was showing.
That happened when you had to deal with complete stupidity.
“We’ll reimburse you,” he said.
“You’ll do more than that,” I grumbled.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’ll have to book you on the next available flight,” he stuttered out.
I narrowed my eyes. “And when is the next available flight?”
He started typing away at his computer, then stopped.
“Th-three hours,” he looked horrified.
“Three-hour delay for a flight he showed up on time for, checked in on time for, and confirmed his reservation, added on to the fact that it’ll be over three hours, means that you’re responsible for four hundred percent of a one-way fare,” the melodic voice behind me said.
I looked over and slightly behind me to find the angel from earlier standing there, looking angry on my behalf.
When I’d seen her walking swiftly to security, the first thing to catch my eye was her ample ass in the tightest pair of leggings I’d ever seen. And they looked thin as fuck. Like there wasn’t much between those black leggings and the skin that I so desperately wanted to touch.
Her top half was covered in an oversized Dallas Mavericks sweatshirt that looked like it was from the eighties.
Her dad’s, maybe.
Had to be.
But it was her hair that’d drawn me in.
Auburn, I decided.
It was a mix between a luxurious brown and red. But definitely more brown with hints of red when the light shined just right.
I’d been studying it for who knew how long while we stood in line at security.
As we’d walked and talked on our way through the airport, I’d decided that if things were different, and I wasn’t so dedicated to the new cause, I would have definitely pursued her.
Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to get her number.