Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
It never snows in Beaufort. That's what people say. They mean it rarely snows here. One of the TVs behind the bar is showing a weather report. They're calling for an inch or two, so nobody's going to risk driving.
I watch the snow fall for a little while longer. It's beautiful because it's rare, and I want to take advantage of the view. If it snows three more times this winter we'll be lucky.
A door in the back closes, and the sound of footsteps makes me turn around. Instantly my heart pounds in that excited way. Like it’s been waiting for a redo as much as I have.
Griffin comes out from the office in back, looking toward the window with his eyebrows raised. He looks at the snow for a few beats, too, then moves over to the bar and leans on it. His lips are slightly parted, and I can’t stop staring.
“I wonder if we should close up early so we don't get snowed in.” He swallows, the cords in his neck tightening, as he slips his hands into his jean pockets. He looks relaxed but also not.
Like he’s tense but only because he’s ready for what’s to come.
My boss glances at me like I'll have the answer.
The only answer I can think of is to lean on the bar like he is. We're separated by a few feet of wood and paneling, but our hands are an inch apart. He's so close that I can smell his cologne. His broad shoulders and rough stubble only make him look more attractive.
“I don't know,” I say finally, licking my lower lip. “Can you get snowed in because of two inches of snow?”
My head says no, but I guess you never know. Most people in Beaufort don't know what to do if it snows, so maybe it's possible that you could get trapped in a bar from snow that doesn't reach your ankles.
Griffin's eyes drop to my lips. “Hmm. I think it depends on how good your tires are,” he says almost absently.
I know a man talking about car tires shouldn't be sexy in any way, but Griffin says it like he'd say I want to strip that shirt right off you or do you know how beautiful you'd look naked or I could lick you all night long.
A blush rises up my cheeks but it’s the kind of blush that hits all over.
I couldn’t care less about tires or snow. All I want is to kiss him. Just to escape into his arms and leave the hard parts of my life behind.
If I did that, I could forget about everything and just kiss him like nothing in the world mattered except feeling his lips on mine. I could be the person who's got her life together and has everything she's ever wanted, at least for a few minutes.
I clear my throat as more heat pours into my face. It's a good thing the lights are dim.
I finally answer him. “Well, I don't know anything about tires or if mine are any good, but I think tonight it might be best to get out of here.”
Griffin hasn't moved from his spot on the bar. He looks deep into my eyes, and I remember the break room. The moment goes on and on until my heart is hammering in my chest, and I can barely breathe.
“Yeah,” Griffin agrees gruffly. “Let's close this place down.”
It's been slow enough that most of the closing duties are done already. Griffin flips the chairs onto the tables, and I run a broom and a mop over the floor one more time. One more round of dishes set to dry for tomorrow, cash settled in the register, and that's it. Griffin goes to the front door and flips the switch for the open sign while I head to the back to change out of my uniform.
He's waiting for me when I come back out with my coat and purse over my arm. Griffin taps his keys against his thigh. They clink together and it sounds loud in the silence of this closed-down bar.
“Is there anything else you need before I head home?” I ask. I feel almost naked without my uniform, like he can see through my loose sweater and all the way to my racing heart.
Griffin doesn't answer at first. “Nothing for the bar, no. Do you want me to drop you off? I'd be happy to do it if you don't want to drive in the snow.”
I laugh at him, which sounds even louder than the keys. “I can drive just fine.”
Griffin shrugs, a smile lighting up his face and fading away. “I know you don't need any help. I was just trying to be a gentleman.”
Griffin Matthews, ever the gentleman. Something slips in my chest and clicks into place as I stare back at him. I'm the one who's not being very ladylike, because I can't help it when my eyes drop down to his lips. I just can't stop wondering what it would be like. You can't stand that close to a man like him without wondering what it would be like to kiss him. To wonder if it would last forever.