Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
“I see. Do you always offer more information than asked for?” A blush rises on her cheeks.
“I do. Loquacious Lauren, that’s what everyone calls me. I’m Lauren Cantrell.” The baby starts crying uncontrollably.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Alejandro Santos.”
“Can you hold him for a minute? He’s probably hungry.” She thrusts the boy at me. “My mom is still breastfeeding.” She’s gone before I can say anything. Despite my large family, none of my siblings have children. I’ve never so much as held a baby before, but I know the logistics of it. He’s still crying, but I keep him close to my chest, and he stops, falling asleep.
“You’re a natural,” Lauren says, coming back with another woman.
“Nothing to it,” I lie.
“This is my mama, Roxie. Mama, this is Alejandro.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? Oh no! Roxie is just fine. I’ll take him off of your hands.” I give her the child.
“Mama, I’m going to hang out with Alejandro,” Lauren says, causing me to smile. Hanging out is the last thing on my mind.
“Have a good time. Happy New Year if I don’t see you until lunch tomorrow.”
“We have a big family meal on New Year’s Day,” Lauren explains. This girl would never hold up during an interrogation.
“Really?” I say in shock, like most families in America don’t do the same exact thing.
“Yeah, you really should come. I assume you’re kind of stuck here.”
“I am, though stuck, isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” It was earlier but meeting her has changed me. I never thought that was possible.
I may be jaded when it comes to women, they always want something I have no intention of giving, so I’ve avoided them socially since I was in college, but this girl is a breath of fresh air.
I can’t wait to breathe her in.
Chapter Two
Lauren
Whoa. This man is unlike any other I have ever seen. He holds out his hand, and I take it. As soon as I do, I know my life will never be the same again. He’s warm and strong. My coat just isn’t doing for me in the cold, but his warmth is taking over my body.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask him.
“We can go together. I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” Alejandro says, making me shiver. His New York-tinged accent is only something I’ve heard on TV, but it does something to me. My pussy is wet for the first time, and I feel empty. It’s like I need him to make me whole. Okay, okay, I know it’s crazy. I don’t even know his last name, but none of that matters.
“Okay,” I answer because I think I have to. I need Alejandro to know I am on board for whatever the hell this is. This isn’t me trying to get something I missed out on. I had a happy childhood. My mom and both of my stepdads made sure of that. I know what love looks like, and I know well enough to want it for myself.
I lead him over to the bar tables, where he selects a beer while I grab a Coke.
“What do you do?” he asks, casually looking around while drinking his beer. I watch his throat muscles work, and I have to clench my thighs together. “Lauren?” he asks when I don’t answer him. Instead, I stare at him.
“Huh?” I ask stupidly.
“I asked what you do,” he replies, chuckling.
“I just graduated from high school. I work at the truck stop. You know, just until I figure out what it is, I want to do.”
“A truck stop?”
“Well, a restaurant in a truck stop.” I drop my empty can in the trash can, and he does the same with his bottle.
“I see,” he says disapprovingly.
“Why’d you say it like that? I see,” I say, mimicking the sad tone he used. I can’t help that I am not as classy as he is. I can’t help that there’s not a lot of options for people in Buck’s Creek.
“There are men at a truck stop,” he says simply.
“Well, yeah, traditionally, but more and more women are driving trucks these days.”
“Hmm,” is all he says.
“Who are you to judge?” I ask, getting pissed. “You come into town dressed like James fucking Bond, making judgments about me. I don’t think I like it.” I have a bit of a temper when provoked. He grabs my arm and leads me away from the tables, behind the clock tower where there are just a few people. He leans me up against the wall and blocks me in. His cologne is intoxicating.
“I am not judging Little Lauren. I am expressing concern. I don’t like the idea of men getting to look at you.”
“You’re nuts. Men always look, no one can stop that, but they don’t get to touch me,” I say, shaking my arm loose from his hold.