Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“How did you make The Shake Place so successful? Please be my mentor,” I beg playfully.
Peter chuckles, “I’ll help you in any way I can with SugarTime. I’ve heard good things about your cookies.”
“I didn’t tell you the name of my bakery. How do you know I own SugarTime?”
He’s silent for a moment, looking down.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out when you told me you did a vlog and I know what you look like. I just Googled NYC bakery vlog, and there were only a handful of hits.”
I stare at him.
“Is there anything else you found out about me on the internet?”
He grins.
“Sweetheart, everything I know about you I found on the internet. That’s where we met, remember?”
“Good point. Does this seem weird to you? I mean the way we met?”
He thinks for a moment.
“Unconventional, maybe, but not weird. Arranged marriages are weird. Having sister-wives is weird. Marrying your cousin is downright wrong. So I guess meeting on-line is just a product of our times. We have a lot in common, so maybe we were supposed to meet a different way, but the coronavirus threw a speed bump in fate’s path,” he says.
Peter has a way of making me feel okay about things that would generally give me anxiety.
“Do you believe in fate, Pete? I find it difficult to buy that we may have met a different way. We don’t exactly run in the same social circles. You own Shake Place, and I have a little bakery that may not survive the pandemic.”
He thinks for a moment.
“I haven’t made a final decision on fate, but we do both have black cats named after Greek gods. And while we may not run in the same social circles, we do work in the same industry. We may use some of the same suppliers or know some of the same people through business dealings. I’ve actually been trying to come up with some new shake flavors and was on the verge of seeking some outside help. Maybe I would have walked into SugarTime and asked you to be a consultant.”
I laugh.
“Ooh, my snickerdoodles or lemon bars would make delicious shakes!”
“See? I’ve been successful because I’ve surrounded myself with the right people and I’ve had a little bit of luck. I was able to start a little food cart because my grandfather raised cattle. I could buy beef at a price no one else could, and my grandfather’s connections in the industry hooked me up with a dairy farmer for my milk and ice cream. The manager of my first store was this guy named Luke whom I trusted to run my restaurant while I expanded. We’re still good friends today, even though he left me to open his own bar.”
I nod with understanding.
“Do you feel like I’m one of the right people you should surround yourself with?”
He grins at me.
“All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you, honey. You’ve become this obsession. I don’t know what would have happened if John hadn’t shown up with our food when he did. I wanted to devour you as soon as you stepped out of that elevator. I value our conversations, but I can’t stop thinking about kissing those rose-colored lips.”
I practically melt then, my pupils dilating.
“Then kiss me. Let’s continue down the path we were on before dinner arrived.”
He shoots me a warning look.
“If we start this, I’m not letting you leave here tonight,” Peter growls. “The things I want to do to you are going to take hours.”
A shiver goes down my spine.
“I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”
I’m reminded again of a panther as Peter pounces forward and crushes his lips to mine. He leans me back against the nearest wall, and in the blink of an eye, Peter is on me like a predator. He’s braced himself with a hand on either side of my head and one of his knees has come up between my legs. His mouth is forceful and demanding. The desire is intoxicating. I’m drunk on the smell and taste of him. I have my own needs and demands though, and I want his shirt off. I want to be able to run my hands over the smooth, bare muscles that caused my body to betray my level of desire on our call the night before.
Our lips part as I yank the t-shirt over his head. He leans back for a moment, bare chest heaving like he just took the stairs from the ground to the penthouse. His eyes are heavy with desire and bore into my soul. My lips are bruised from the force of his mouth on mine, but I want more. I reach for his zipper. He groans but grabs my wrist.
“Not here, sweetheart. Come with me.”
He takes my hand and leads me down a hall that wasn’t part of the earlier tour. I realize he didn’t show me his bedroom, and now I see why. The rich black silk sheets that cover a massive king bed are sprinkled with deep red and purple rose petals. Vases full of the same color buds are set on dressers and night stands. This expansive bedroom has floor to ceiling windows, just like the formal living room downstairs. The New York skyline provides the perfect amount of lighting.