Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
He shrugged. “A burger is a burger to me. As long as it tastes good, I’m happy. I’m easy like that.”
“I guarantee a burger made from grass-fed, free-range, locally-sourced beef tastes better than one made from animals pumped full of hormones and antibiotics kept in feedlots full of their own excrement and processed in filthy industrial meatpacking plants.”
Dallas held up his hands in surrender. “You win. Now please stop talking or I will never enjoy a hamburger again.”
I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I studied nutrition in college and learned a lot about the benefits of responsible, sustainable farming versus industrial agriculture.”
“You can tell me all about it over our responsible, sustainable dinner. I’ll pick you up around eight?”
I glanced at the digital clock on the stove. It was just after five, which gave me plenty of time to get ready and maybe sneak in some meditation. I wanted to feel completely at ease with myself going into tonight. “Sounds good. I assume casual?”
“Considering I haven’t worn a tie in about eight years, that’s a safe assumption. I don’t even think I own a pair of pants that aren’t jeans.”
I was curious. “What happened eight years ago?”
“My grandfather died.”
“I’m sorry. I know you were close.”
He shrugged. “He was a good guy, the only one in my family I could talk to. He understood me, for some reason. Or at least he didn’t judge me for being unlike my father or my brother.”
I nodded slowly, picturing the silver-haired man I’d met a couple times. “He was the gunpowder guy, right?”
“Sort of. That’s how his family made their fortune, anyway, but he’d sold that business before my father was born, and invested all his money in the stock market.”
“Smart.”
“He left me a lot. Of money, I mean. Much more than he left anyone else.” All the light had gone out of Dallas’s eyes. “I don’t really get it.”
“He must’ve trusted you to do the right thing with it.”
“Or he thought I needed it more than anyone else because I wouldn’t ever make anything of my life.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment I saw the boy that he’d been, always so hurt by his family’s disapproval. “I don’t believe that for one second.”
“Yeah, well, you were like him. Always thought the best of me.”
I tried again, like I always had. “Let me ask you this. Did he put up a lot of barriers between you and your inheritance? Put a lot of conditions on it?”
Dallas shook his head. “Not one. It was mine almost free and clear.”
I lifted my shoulders. “There you go. He trusted you.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and pushed away from the counter. “I should get going. See you at eight?”
“Sounds good.” I walked him to the front door, and he gave my upper arm a squeeze before heading out to his rental car. I watched him get behind the wheel and pull away, still a little in shock.
Dallas Shepherd, after all this time.
I walked back into my flat, closing the door behind me. Grabbing my phone from my purse, I floated, trancelike, through the living room, down the hall, and into my bedroom. I’d planned on calling one or both of my sisters, but instead I lay on my back on top of the covers, set my phone aside, and placed my hands on my stomach. My body had that fluttery, weightless feeling I used to get before going on stage, a combination of nerves and excitement. But I didn’t have anything to be worried about, did I? Tonight wasn’t going to be a performance. I didn’t need to impress him. And it was only natural that a little desire for him lingered. I’d always liked his light eyes. And his agile hands. And his full mouth. His muscular body. His sense of humor. His dimpled chin.
But it wasn’t a big deal. I wasn’t concerned that he would take advantage of it. He hadn’t even tried to give me a hug.
I frowned. Maybe he didn’t find me attractive anymore. Maybe he had a girlfriend. He’d said he wasn’t married, but he never said he was single. A sudden rush of jealousy stole my breath.
Which was ridiculous.
Dallas and I hadn’t been together in twelve years. Did I think he’d been celibate all that time? Of course not. I hadn’t, either. But I didn’t like thinking about him with anyone else, so I made up my mind not to do it.
I wouldn’t think about him with me, either. I wouldn’t think about his hands or his lips or his tongue or his cock, the way he’d touched or tasted or moved, the words he’d whispered in the dark.
Let me do this to you.
God, I can’t get enough.
You know I love you.
But of course, then there were the words he should have said but didn’t.
I’m leaving tomorrow.