Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Thank God Jack didn’t care if I was there late at night. In fact, they encouraged me to come whenever I liked. He even kept my favorite beer in the fridge out back. He and Janet definitely treated me like I was part of their family. I worked as much as I did because I’d always worked. And also because I didn’t have anything else to do. My mind raced and the emptiness rushed in after dark.
Most nights, I was lucky if I got any sleep at all.
Sleep deprivation. That explained it. That's what was happening to me.
“I brought more coffee,” a soft voice said from behind me. “I even brought you a cup.”
I turned slowly, eager to see her but terrified at the same time. I felt like a little kid bracing himself for a wave in the ocean. And I was right.
Fuck. Me.
She was focused on pouring me a cup of coffee from her replenished supplies so she didn’t notice me staring. That was good. Hopefully, she wouldn’t catch me mid-drool. Because oh, boy, was I fucking drooling.
Melissa was even sweeter and juicier than I remembered from earlier that morning. She was perfectly feminine and natural. She was the girl from every soap commercial, but even curvier and prettier.
And she clearly had no idea what she was doing to me.
She smiled at me sweetly and held out the steaming mug.
“I hope you don’t mind it black.”
I shook my head mutely, taking the cup from her. I couldn’t help but let our fingers brush like they had the first time. That’s all you’re going to get, Nick, I warned myself. Fucking enjoy it.
Yeah, even her fingers were making me googly-eyed.
“Quick visit?” she asked, taking a gulp from the thermos. I stared hungrily at her throat as she swallowed then switched back to staring at her lips. Dear God, I thought as she licked a drop of coffee off her lips. I could bite those lips.
“I have to get to work.”
“Oh, right. Are you still doing construction?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, inexplicably pleased that she’d remembered that. “And I bartend most nights.”
“You do?” she asked, looking intrigued. “Where?”
“Sons of Satan’s clubhouse.”
“Can anyone go? I mean, could I come?”
I stared at her.
“I’m a man.”
She cocked her head to the side, looking perplexed. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t making a lick of sense.
“I know that.”
“There will be men there.”
She smiled at me like I was a simpleton. Hell, I kind of was.
“Usually are. Every place you go, you find a few.” She chuckled, clearly not getting it. She would create a goddamn stampede if she walked in there looking the way she did. She is far too young and beautiful for those assholes, I thought jealously. She is far too good for you, too, buddy.
“It’s a rough place sometimes,” I finally said.
“Oh,” she said, looking crestfallen. “That’s okay. I never really have time to go out, anyway.”
There was something so heartbreakingly lonely about her face as she turned away. I nearly reached out and grabbed her. Lord knows, I fucking wanted to.
Was it possible that the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen in my life was . . . lonely?
“Have a good day, Nick.”
I was so distracted by the odd sense that Melissa might actually need a friend, might need me, that I almost missed the chance to stare at her unbelievably perfect ass as she walked away.
That would have been the honorable thing to do. Turns out, I wasn’t honorable. I definitely stared. Hell, I committed her heart-shaped ass to memory.
There was no fighting it. I was a dog, and Melissa was a very, very tasty looking bone.
Chapter Four
Melissa
I tucked my T-shirt into my jeans. It was my favorite casual top. A faded red college T-shirt I’d had forever, but the color was pretty and it was a little more femininely cut than the rest of my work shirts, which were mostly ancient hand-me-downs from my folks. I dabbed a little tinted lipgloss on my lips, feeling stupid but unable to help myself from taking a little bit more care than usual with my appearance.
I had a breakfast date. Well, it wasn't actually a date. But it felt like one. Basically, Nick had been coming early every morning to see his horse and I’d been taking the opportunity to ply him with coffee and baked goods. I felt a bit silly, to be honest. I’d been up until midnight making muffins the night before just because he mentioned that he liked blueberry.
The way to a man's heart was through his stomach, right? And it's not like I could dress up or flirt, since I didn’t know how, but I could wear something a little cuter than my usual old flannel shirt. I didn't have any designer jeans or high heels, but at least my hair wasn't in a baseball cap today. I’d taken the time to French braid it, although I didn’t expect it to hold up as neatly as it was in the mirror. I knew from experience that it wouldn't stay confined for long. Even when I’d been riding competitively, I’d had the messiest hair around. And doing chores? Forget it. Within a few minutes of working, little curly tendrils would be sticking out all over the place.