Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Once I put Harper to bed, I busy myself with a few emails, clean up the last of the dishes in the kitchen, and then tidy up around the house.
It’s 9:45 PM.
Chloe probably won’t be back for a while, and I can’t go to sleep because I forgot to give her a spare key and the alarm code. I don’t want to lock her out, and I don’t feel comfortable going to sleep with our front door unlocked and the alarm not set. Not with Harper in the house.
So you see, my reasons for staying up, sitting on the couch, watching ESPN, are sound. I don’t even have to wrestle with my subconscious over the idea that I might be staying up to wait for Chloe for different reasons.
Nope.
It’s 10:16 PM when the front door opens. Chloe quietly tiptoes down the hall toward the living room.
“Oh! I was hoping you’d still be awake.”
God. Why do her words make all my blood run south? It’s an innocent enough statement, but it could be nefarious if only she wanted it to be.
I reach for the remote to turn off the TV just as I turn toward her. It’s easier to see her now, knowing what to expect, bracing myself for her charm.
Or so I think.
When she produces a small white takeout container from behind her back and waggles it in my direction, all bets are off.
“Onion rings,” she proclaims with a knowing twinkle in her eyes.
“You’re kidding.”
She bites down on her bottom lip to quell her smile. “I waited to order them until we were about to leave, so they’re still hot and everything.”
“Oh fuck,” I say, tossing my throw blanket off my legs and standing up to take the container from her. I’m in the kitchen with that lid open in record time. I grab ketchup from the fridge and enter fried food heaven with a moan of delight.
Chloe followed me into the kitchen, and she stands on the other side of the island, watching me eat with big round eyes.
“What did I do to deserve these?” I ask once I’ve polished off the first one.
“Who says you had to earn them?”
I cock one eyebrow. “So you routinely do things solely out of the kindness of your heart?”
“I saw them on the menu and thought of you and…” She shrugs. “I couldn’t resist.”
I grab a second onion ring and wag it in her direction. “Let me tell you, you keep going above and beyond like this and you might just earn yourself the title of employee of the month.”
A laugh bursts out of her. She slips her purse off her shoulder, drops it on the counter, and leans toward me.
Saint that I am, I don’t even look down the top of her dress despite the fact that it’s gaping.
“Does the award come with any perks?” she teases.
Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.
I sidestep her question, aware that it would only lead us down a dangerous path.
“How was dinner?”
Her shoulders sag with disappointment, like she was hoping I’d continue her thread of banter. “Fine.”
“And how was your guy?”
“Fine.”
I want to pester her for more details. Who is he? Some trust fund schmuck clad in boat shoes and a Ralph Lauren sweater? How’d she even meet him so fast?
“The restaurant was romantic. Have you ever been there on a date?”
“Date?” I ask with laughter in my voice before popping the second onion ring in my mouth.
“Yes, like when two people who are mutually attracted to each other get dolled up to enjoy a meal or a drink together.”
“Ah, so that’s a date. I forgot—it’s been so long since I’ve been on one.”
“Oh? You’re telling me Luke Allen has a hard time finding a date?” She rolls her eyes to emphasize her point.
“I can find a willing woman to fill a night, sure. A date is something else entirely.”
“So you’re really picky?”
“I’m not looking for love right now. Harper is my full-time focus.”
She nods. “Of course. That’s admirable.”
Her gaze slides to her purse, and for a moment, I think she’s going to call it a night.
I’m not prepared to let that happen just yet. “What about you?”
Her gaze flits back up to me. “What?”
“What are you looking for? Love? With this guy?”
She huffs out an exasperated breath. “No.”
“Why do you sound so put off by the idea?”
She stares at her finger as she draws circles on the counter. When she replies, she sounds slightly embarrassed to admit, “I just got out of a weird, bad relationship. He was my boss at the restaurant, and a little older, and there were approximately a million reasons I should not have been with him.”
Her older boss.
My stomach twists into a painful angry knot.
“Your boss? Inappropriate, no?”
She looks up at me from beneath her eyelashes. “Don’t judge me. It happens all the time. He was impossible to ignore, kind of a celebrity in the food world, and he was really persistent.”