Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
I know the exact moment I’ve spotted the table where Talon’s family is, because it looks like a group of big-ass, good-looking superheroes who favor him have come to dinner. “Umm… wow, okay. So you get your hotness honestly.” My cheeks flame as my wide eyes return to Talon’s. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. “I mean… I mean…. Never mind. I’ll be back. I need to go check on my kids’ dinner.”
I rush toward the bar, not paying attention, and run straight into a brick wall. A brick wall that smells just like the delicious cologne Winston wears along with the yummy scent of bell peppers and spices that has attached itself to him. My gaze makes its way up until I’m staring into his beautiful dark eyes that are full of heat and need, and his big, hot hands come down on my shoulders. The touch sizzles even through my T-shirt, the heat rushing down my arms to my fingertips before zipping back up and surging toward my nipples. They harden instantly, almost painfully, inside my bra, and I nearly moan.
He ducks his face so close to mine I think he might kiss me, right there in the restaurant in front of everyone, and my breath catches. I scold myself for not jerking away, for not putting some distance between us, because anyone looking at us right now would clearly see there’s more between us than just a boss and his employee. It’s obvious in the way he’s looking at me, in the way his pointer fingers slide gently up the sides of my neck as his hands still rest on my shoulders, in the way I’m sure my expression shows how much I long for him. But I can’t move. I can’t… fucking… move.
“We need to talk, naekkeo,” he murmurs, his minty breath filling the short space between us.
“Are you divorced yet?” I ask, my voice not as strong as I want it to be.
He frowns. “You know I’m not, Cece.”
I lift my chin but still can’t find the fortitude to step out of his hold on me. “Then we have nothing to talk about,” I say, shaking my head.
His face softens, and my knees grow weak. “But we do. We need to talk about the fact that I’m in love with you.”
I do jerk back then, my hand going to my chest as if to hold back my frantic heart. Did he—
“Order up!” Steph calls as she comes through the door from the kitchen, and I take it from her on autopilot as Winston finally lets me go.
“Thanks,” I murmur, catching Winston’s small smile when I turn back toward him with the tray.
“We’ll talk later,” he states, and there’s no room for argument in his tone even though his expression stays soft.
I make my way over to my girls, my sister, and Talon, where I see he’s got his plate already in front of him. He must’ve grabbed it after his family’s dinner was brought out. I wink at Ruby when I see her already munching on a fry.
“Dinner is served,” I announce, and Ruby pushes her tablet across the table so I can place her plate in front of her. Talon helps me pass out the other plates, and once everyone has their dinner, I tuck the tray under my arm. “Are you guys good?”
“I think we’re good for now,” Mia replies as Talon grabs the ketchup from the middle of the table and squirts some on Ruby’s plate. He’s such a good guy. I hope my sister doesn’t try to push him away.
“I’ll be back to check on you guys after I check on my tables.” I pat Talon’s shoulder before walking back toward the bar, hoping they didn’t sense I basically had the wind knocked out of me by Winston’s declaration.
I glance around but don’t see him in the dining room. He must’ve gone back to the kitchen after dropping that little bomb on me. I do, however, see table twelve is getting low on their drinks, so I slip behind the bar to grab some refills.
I almost have my racing heart under control by the time I’m finished getting table eleven’s check, when suddenly I hear a voice I never expected to hear inside Winston’s Bar and Grille.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this, Cecilia?”
I turn wide eyes on Mike, his barely controlled anger permeating the air around him as he waves a manila folder at me, even though he’s kept his voice low enough the people around us didn’t hear. Image is everything to him, so I’m absolutely shocked he’s here right now at all.
I shake off my surprise and pull myself up to my full five-foot five height, squaring my shoulders. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. Right at the top of the page in bold are the words Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.” If he wants to always treat me like I’m stupid, then I’ll spell it out dumbly for him.