Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“No way. I’ll have them brought back to life. I have a cobbler.”
I shut her door and walk around to the driver’s side. Once I’m in, I turn to her. She’s a damn beautiful woman.
“You have a cobbler.”
“Sure. Those shoes were expensive. I’m not going to just toss them out. We’ve been going to the same guy for years for this kind of stuff.”
“And by we you mean…”
“My mom, my aunts, and my cousins. We’re all a bunch of shoe people. What about you? Do you like shoes?”
“I wear them every day,” I confirm and pull away from the curb.
Stella leans over to look at my feet and then nods in satisfaction. “You’re wearing retro Jordan 1s. You’re a shoe guy.”
“So, you know luxury brands and sneakers?”
“Half my cousins are boys,” she says. “And my uncle had his own shoe line for a while.”
“Who’s your uncle?”
“Will Montgomery,” she says with a shrug. “Don’t tell him, but I prefer the Jordans.”
“You’re a fascinating woman, Stella.”
Her face brightens as she turns to me in her seat. “That’s the best compliment anyone’s ever given me.”
I want to take her home—to my bed. I want to fuck her, explore her, learn more about her.
Alone.
She’s wearing black leather pants with a wide leg, and a white blouse. The boots are red. Her bag is red.
And those plump lips that I’ve been thinking about all damn day are also red.
I’ve wanted women before. Hell, with thirty-four years on this Earth, I’ve wanted plenty of women.
But no one has managed to turn me inside out so quickly. It’s not just her killer body and that shapely mouth.
It’s her confidence. Her directness.
I just met her this morning, and I can’t get enough of her.
“What’s for dinner?” she asks.
“Do you like pizza?”
“Sure, I like a good pie. You surprise me.”
“Why?”
“You struck me as the steak type. Maybe seafood.”
“If you’d rather that, we can do a seafood place.”
“No, pizza’s always good. I’m just surprised, that’s all. How long have you lived in Seattle?”
“Ten years. You?”
“I was born here,” she says with a grin. “I went to college, and then came back. I love it here. Where are you from?”
“Northern Idaho,” I reply.
“Oh, Coeur d'Alene is gorgeous.”
“That’s my hometown.” And she’s right, it is beautiful there. I should go home and see my family. “I have family there, but I wanted to practice law in the city. I like Seattle, and I’m close enough to home that I can get there quickly if I need to.”
“That makes sense.”
I pull into the lot of my favorite pizza joint and put the car in park. Before I can move to get out, Stella reaches over to drag her fingertips over my arm.
“I knew you had ink,” she says quietly. “And just so you know, I’m not sleeping with you on the first date.”
“Is that a challenge?”
She laughs a little and then shakes her head. “No, it’s the facts. Come on, let’s go get some pizza.”
Chapter 3
Stella
Everyone seems to know him in this place. From the hostess to the waitstaff, Gray is the freaking center of attention.
It’s actually really fascinating.
“Do you own this place?” I ask him after we’re seated and he’s managed to wave or say hello to just about everyone. It’s kind of cute.
“No.”
“Come here often, then?”
He doesn’t even have to look at the menu. He sips his water and watches me over the rim of the tall, clear glass.
“What tipped you off?”
I smirk and set the menu aside, and then laugh outright when yet another waitress waves at Gray from across the packed room.
“Okay, I need to know what the story is here. Do you moonlight as a pizza delivery guy?”
“No,” he says again and laughs with me this time. Gray leans his elbows on the table and smiles at me. “I might come in here about once a week or so. Sometimes more if I work late nights and don’t have time to cook or go to Betty’s for dinner.”
I raise a brow. “Who’s Betty?”
“My neighbor,” he says as our waiter approaches to take our order. “I’ll have my usual.”
“What’s that?” I ask him.
“Large pepperoni on the thick crust.”
“I’ll have that, too,” I inform the waiter.
Gray’s eyebrows wing up in a ridiculously sexy way.
“We could probably just add some garlic bread and salad and split one pizza,” he suggests.
“Okay, I’m good with that,” I say with a nod, and the waiter leaves to put in our order. “So, tell me about Betty.”
“Maybe she’s the femme fatale that lives next to me, and I sleep with her whenever it’s convenient for both of us.”
I watch him as I sip the beer the server just delivered. Gray’s sticking with water, and given that he’s driving, that’s a point in his favor.
“If she’s a femme fatale, I definitely want to know more.”
But I don’t want to think about him sleeping with someone else. I know it sounds stupid given I barely know him—and I certainly haven’t slept with him—but…no.