Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Oh? Did he ask you out?”
“No.”
“Did he check out your boobs?”
“Yes, but . . .” I point to my shirt.
Will squints before laughing. “Coffee?”
I nod. “I thought he was staring at my boobs, but then he gestured to my shirt. Did I mention this happened after the women’s bathroom was closed, so I had to use the men’s? There was no toilet paper, and I started my period. So Ozzy, this mechanic, fetched me toilet paper and a pad. Nothing embarrassing about that.”
Will shakes with silent laughter, hand fisted at his mouth. “Christ, Maren. How do you get yourself into these situations?”
I roll my eyes.
“And I guarantee he was looking at your boobs. You could have ‘Don’t look at my boobs’ written in blood across your chest, and men would not see anything in their pursuit of finding your nipple outlines.”
“You’re a man. Does that mean you’re always looking for my nips?”
“I found them years ago. I no longer have to look.”
“You’re so funny.”
“So let’s be real for a minute,” he says. “What if this mechanic wasn’t searching for the cherry pebbles? What if it was the coffee stain? And you think he’s interested in you, but maybe he finds you interesting, but only in the way that one cannot turn away from a train wreck.”
“Flame,” I say.
“What?”
“He looked at me like someone who can’t turn away from a fire, watching the flames. I’m hot.”
“Indeed. Nothing gets a guy horny quite like fetching toilet paper and a maxi pad for a stranger in the men’s bathroom.” Will puts his clean dishes away.
“Why must you rain on my parade? Can’t you just lie to me like a real friend?”
Will chuckles. “Sure. This Ozzy guy’s probably at home right now, jerking off to the vision of your jeans wadded up at your ankles in the men’s bathroom stall while you beg him for a maxi pad.”
I snort, covering my mouth. “You’re right. Did you say my future husband’s name is Reagan?”
Will winks and clicks his tongue twice. “Attagirl. Once you lower your standards, the world is your oyster.”
On my way to the airport to fly Ted to Chicago (my last flight with him until the end of this upcoming fire season), I pass a guy on a bike. But not just any guy. It’s Ozzy in the rain. I pull my RAV4 to the side of the road and step out when it’s safe.
He stops his fat-tire bike a few feet from the back of my dirty black RAV.
“Get in,” I say, holding the hood of my rain jacket to keep it from blowing off my head. “I’ll collapse my back seats so your bike can go in the back.”
“I’m good, but thanks.” He squints against the rain.
I chuckle. “It’s no big deal. Really, get in.”
“I can’t.” He licks the water from his lips.
“Why not?”
“I made a promise.”
“Like a fitness goal? Or a promise to the environment?” I shake my head. “Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business. Just be careful. It’s dangerous when the roads are wet, and drivers can’t see you.”
“I appreciate the offer.” Ozzy smiles with rivulets of water sticking to his short-trimmed beard, a few shades darker than his chestnut hair, which was a thick, chaotic mess the day I met him. He probably can’t wear a helmet and give a shit about his hair.
After a final nod and smile, I hop back into my vehicle and continue along the road. Cielo Aviation is next to the airport, so I pull into the parking lot and wait.
Ten minutes later, Ozzy arrives. Since I’m pulled right next to the back entrance, I know he sees me, so I climb out of my RAV and run under the red awning, catching him right before he scans his ID card to enter the building.
“Hey,” I say with a smile, immediately losing my nerve. I want to ask him out. “How old is your daughter?”
Ozzy lights up, white teeth peeking through his full lips. “Lola’s ten.”
“Lola is a great name.” I squint when the wind blows rain in our direction.
Ozzy glances around. “You coming inside?”
“No, I’m headed to the airport. I’m flying someone to Chicago today. It’s my offseason job that’s coming to an end after this trip.”
Ozzy nods slowly while eyeing me with an unreadable expression. “Did you just want to know my daughter’s age?”
Flirting is my thing. I know how to do it and get men to ask me out, except with this man. With Ozzy, I’m a word-fumbling fool. “I was also going to ask what grade she’s in.”
His lips bend into a smirk. “Fourth. Too smart for her own good.”
I nod several times. “My brother, Brandon, was smart like that. He never had to study. When our mom would make him help me with my schoolwork, all he did was sigh heavily because he didn’t understand why I didn’t get everything the first time. He would have been an awful teacher.” I scrape my teeth along my bottom lip several times. “I rarely talk about my brother, but it felt good to tell you that.”