Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Alexa made a put upon sigh, and I looked up at her to see her eyes focused on where Dean’s hand was resting on my shoulders.
I didn’t bother to move his hand, either. Not with the rise I was getting out Alexa.
It was clearly apparent to me that she loved him.
How he couldn’t see it, I didn’t know.
“Here’s your food dear,” another waitress that used to wait on me a year ago, said.
“Thank you, Chelsea,” I thanked her softly.
Chelsea smiled at me, and I gave her one back before reaching for the ketchup.
Taking it and smothering the omelet with the elixir of the gods, I picked up my fork, placed my napkin in my lap, and dug in without looking up again.
“That’s not very healthy,” Dean teased as I finished my last bite of ketchup covered goodness.
“He’s right,” Alexa said, her face on me with a disgusted look on her face. “It’s not healthy. Ketchup has so many calories…”
I held up a hand.
“There are a few things in life that I refuse to give up,” I told her. “Dr. Pepper, Heinz Ketchup on everything, even my sandwiches, and my love of baseball season.”
Dean chuckled and stole a mushroom off my plate and popped it into his mouth before he replied.
“Spring training for the Rangers started last weekend,” he said. “We should catch a game.”
“I’d like to go to the one with the Astros this year,” I told him. “I’m wondering how the new centerfielder looks.”
“He’ll be better than we think he’ll be for a rookie,” Dean explained, stealing another mushroom. “Fucker could’ve inked a deal with any team in the league.”
“Remember I asked to come to one this year!” Alexa butted into our conversation.
Dean, however, earned some points by saying, “I already told you that you’d hate the game. They’re long, hot and boring, all of which you’d hate. Trust me on this.”
“Then why does she like them?” Alexa pouted.
I barely contained my smile, instead shoveled more food into my mouth to hide it.
Alexa saw, though.
Dean, however, didn’t.
He was too busy explaining my desire for the sport.
“She played softball, and her brother played baseball. She’s always been a fan of the sport, even as a child,” he explained, sitting back and moving his drink and mine to the side to make room for his food.
My eyes fell on the large stack of pancakes, and I licked my lips involuntarily.
“You know you want some,” Dean teased.
I did.
I wouldn’t break my new diet, though.
Shouldn’t.
Well…maybe just a bite.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m okay.”
Taking another bite of the omelet I was no longer interested in, I washed it down with a large swallow of ice water while I listened to Alexa say, “I’ll take some.”
Dean cut off a small chunk that he’d smothered in syrup and started to fork it over to Alexa who leaned forward to take the bite, but I grabbed a hold of his hand and directed the bite to my mouth.
Dean laughed under his breath, and I chewed, my mouth turning up into a grin at the acid-like glare I received from Alexa.
“That’s what I thought,” Dean said, gathering up another bite and offering it to Alexa this time.
The jolt of him offering it to her had me lifting my leg up to stomp my foot down on his.
All I managed to accomplish was kicking it too high, and spilling not just my water, but Dean’s coffee, the syrup carafe, and Alexa’s water as well.
In Alexa’s direction.
It all happened so fast that she never even leaned forward all the way before all the liquids were heading her way.
She tried in vain to stand, but I’d done a damn good job, and managed to do it so fast and thoroughly that it got all over her cute little jeans, and her white skin tight tube-top.
“You bitch!” Alexa screeched.
I stared in silence, my foot coming down lightly on top of Dean’s foot, before I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Dean stood up and grabbed a hold of Alexa’s hand.
“Come out to the truck, I have some coveralls you can change into that’ll work well enough until you can get home and change,” he led her out the door by her hand.
My face was flaming as the rest of the diner looked at me in various shades of surprise, suspicion and humor.
“You want me to bring you another drink while you move to another seat?” Fran asked me, a sad smile taking over her face.
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “Here’s some money,” I pulled out two twenty dollar bills. “That should cover mine, Dean’s and Alexa’s.”
“You don’t have to pay for her,” Fran said. “We know you didn’t mean to do it.”
“The difference is that I did do it, whether I meant to or not. So I’m paying for her breakfast,” I told her, my stomach churning. “And would you tell Dean that I had to run?”