Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Twenty minutes after we ordered, the waitress swept by our booth, tacky pink uniform and inflated blonde hair intact, and announced that they’d run out of burgers.
“How does a burger joint run out of burgers?” I seethed, lips pressed tight to avoid roaring.
She shrugged. “Ask the owner. I’m just here taking orders.”
“Then, take this one—get your ass to the kitchen and bring me the manager. Now.”
Shortbread gasped, spinning to me. “Romeo, is everything all right?”
“No, nothing is all right.” I slipped out of the booth, striding to the kitchen myself.
Surely, they’d have something to eat. At this point, I was open to gnawing on someone’s leg if it meant feeling satisfied.
Throwing the saloon doors open, I waltzed into the sizzling kitchen, bypassing the cooks and the dishwashers, marching straight to a man in a cheap suit.
Dallas and the waitress pursued at my heels.
“Hey!” He swung in my direction, holding a clipboard. “You can’t come in here.”
I cornered him to the wall. Clanging pans and rushed shouts filled my ears. I hated noise. The only noise I could ever tolerate was of Dallas’s making.
“You ran out of burgers.” I fisted his shirt and lifted him in the air, slamming him against the industrial freezer.
“Romeo!” Within seconds, Dallas heaved herself over my arm. “Let the man go. Jesus Christ, what’s happening to you?”
“W-w-we still have steaks.” The McManager’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “S-sorry about the burgers. We had an office party earlier. A lot of people ordered it—”
“I don’t want a steak. I want a fucking burger.”
“I’ll see that someone goes to the grocery store to buy more—” A red rash unfurled across his cheeks, sweat hailing down his temples in buckets. “In the meantime, we’ll send complimentary onion rings and fries to your table.”
Shortbread finally managed to push me away. “Romeo, let him go.”
Reluctantly, I disconnected from him.
She wedged herself between us, her face singed pink. Her expression pulled me back to earth.
What the hell just happened? Edging a few steps away, I raised my hands in the air, signaling that I’d finished manhandling the staff.
Dallas flashed an apologetic smile. “Thanks for the offer…and the onion rings, but we’ll go someplace else.”
She shoved me out of the kitchen then the restaurant. Dazed, I let her drag me into the passenger seat of Natasha’s car.
Cold sweat itched at my neck. Dallas slid into a drive-thru and purchased two massive burgers with all the frills, fries, and sodas.
She thrust the food into my hands before she even slipped her card back into her wallet. “Eat.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Eat right now, or I’ll shovel it down your throat, Rom. I swear to God.”
Well, she did insist.
I devoured everything within minutes. All gone by the time we rounded two blocks to a park tucked behind a residential neighborhood.
Shortbread killed the engine and turned to me. “You had a panic attack.”
Shame trickled into my system.
In fact, it had never really left.
I stared right ahead, at the slides and swings. I never allowed myself to go over four hours without food. Not for decades.
That was the whole reason I ate low-calorie, nutritious meals. I needed to constantly consume food to keep the anxiety at bay.
“I was just hungry.”
“Bull-crap. You’re the most meticulous creature I’ve ever met. You’ve never lost your temper before. You were triggered by something. What was it?”
Haven’t you had enough of my secrets? Of my flaws? My glaring imperfections? Must you know every single dreadful thing about me?
The questions must’ve been written on my face, because she nodded. “I’m your wife. Your safe haven. I need to know everything. As I said before—I will never betray you.”
Fine. If she wanted a private view into my soul, she’d get it. Though nobody should be unfortunate enough to witness that mess.
At the same time, I was helpless to deny her anything.
My secrets. My thoughts. My heart.
All there, on a silver platter for her to gobble.
The woman had me in such a chokehold, I’d follow her to the pits of hell if she wished to enjoy its warm weather.
Gathering the burger and fry wrappers, I crinkled them in my fist, avoiding eye contact. “As I once mentioned, Morgan wasn’t my father’s first rodeo in Cheatville. Even before her, Senior had the irritating habit of dicking down anything with a hole and the faintest interest in him.”
Her eyes clung to the side of my face, heating my skin.
“He cheated on Monica on and off. Theirs was an arranged marriage by the book. She was born into wealth; he wanted his hands on it. Their families were both Italian. Both Catholic. Both ambitious. It made sense. Unfortunately, Senior took it for what it was—an arrangement with benefits—while Monica fell madly in love with him, demanding his loyalty.”
Love was a terrible thing. It brought the ugly out of people. Though I’d begun to see it brought the beauty out, too.