Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
The diner’s gone silent, all eyes on us. I ignore them, turning back to Sienna. Her face is flushed, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
“You okay, princess?”
She nods, her lips parting like she wants to say something, but the words don’t come. I hold a hand to help her up, and she takes it. We step over the fallen man, heading back to the truck, breakfast long forgotten.
She scrambles into the passenger seat, her breathing fast. My rage is fading, and now I can see she’s scared. Whether it’s over what happened before I arrived or what I did, I’m not sure.
Shit. I’ve frightened her.
Looking at Sienna’s beautiful face, I’m reminded all over again how unfamiliar this world of mine is to her. I need to remember that she’s delicate, or I’m going to push her away. Maybe…maybe the answer for tonight is to treat her to the finer things like she’s used to.
“Sienna,” I say, getting her attention. “Tonight, we’re doing something different.”
Her brows furrow in confusion, but she doesn’t argue. “Oh?”
“No diners. No truck. I’m taking you shopping and then to a real restaurant. And we’re getting a proper hotel room.”
Her lips part in surprise, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “Garrett, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
The restaurant is a stark contrast to the greasy diners we’ve been frequenting, and now I’m the one who feels out of place. The hostess gives us an appraising look when we walk in—me in my jeans and boots, Sienna in the new dress she bought just an hour ago—but she doesn’t say anything, leading us to a cozy corner table near the window.
The smell of garlic and fresh-baked bread is mouthwatering, and Sienna’s eyes light up as she glances at the menu.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she admits, biting her lip, making my thoughts go to all sorts of inappropriate places.
“Get whatever you want.”
She looks up at me, her cheeks flushing. “Why does it sound like you aren’t just talking about the menu?”
I grin. “I guess we’ll never know.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles, eventually deciding on a plate of Chicken Alfredo. I go for the lasagna, and when the server brings out a basket of warm breadsticks, Sienna’s quiet hum of delight nearly undoes me.
As we eat, the conversation flows easily. She tells me about growing up in New Orleans, about the private schools and debutante balls. I share stories from the road—funny mishaps at truck stops, the time I accidentally locked myself out of my rig in the middle of a blizzard.
“Wait, you climbed through the window to get back in?” she asks, laughing so hard she nearly spills her water.
“Had to,” I say with a shrug. “Wasn’t about to freeze my ass off waiting for roadside assistance.”
She shakes her head, her laughter tapering into a warm, lingering smile. “I like this side of you,” she says softly.
“Yeah? What side is that?”
She hesitates, her cheeks turning pink. “The side that’s… normal. Relatable.”
“Relatable…”
“You know what I mean.” Sienna waves her hand in the air dismissively.
I don’t press her, but she blushes, her expression warm and affectionate. It’s more satisfying than any sort of meal could ever be.
The hotel is the nicest place I’ve stayed in years. Decorated in polished wood and antique brass fixtures, the suite has a king-sized bed, a sitting area, and a bathroom with a tub big enough to swim in. As soon as we step inside, Sienna lets out a squeal of excitement.
“This is amazing,” she whispers, spinning around to take it all in.
“Only the best,” I say, tossing the room key onto the dresser and trying my damnedest not to look at the bed and imagine all the things I want to do in it.
She kicks off her shoes and flops onto the bed, stretching out with a sigh of pure satisfaction, eyelids fluttering.
“This,” she says, her voice muffled by the pillow, “is heaven. I’m never leaving.”
I chuckle, leaning against the wall to watch her. She looks so at peace, her hair spread out like an auburn halo against the crisp white sheets. For a moment, I forget about all the bullshit following us—her family, Charles, all of it. Right now, it’s just her and me and…the damned bed.
Sienna’s legs are bare, her skirt riding up as she rolls onto her stomach. I swore to myself not to try and fuck her in the back of the truck, but here…?
Can I be the man she needs? Can I give her the stability I know she craves?
I’m not sure, but I’m going to try my damnedest. As if she can sense my thoughts, Sienna sits up and crooks a finger towards me. "Come try the bed out with me, Daddy."
Fuck. That word does something to me, sending heat straight to my cock. I'm rock hard in an instant, and her innocent grin does nothing to help. She knows exactly what she's doing.