Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Excuse me?”
“Apologizing. It’s your thing,” I answer with a shrug. “Figured I could save you some time by rallying everyone up while Lance finishes mopping.”
Her mouth drops open so far, I can see all of her pearly white teeth.
“What?” I question. “You can’t deny it’s your thing. Miss Apologies. Even when it’s not your fault, you say sorry for it. And whenever I think you’ll get tired of always apologizing, another assurance slips from your mouth.”
She is appalled. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
“Well, I did.” I offer one nonchalant lift of my shoulder. “You know why? Because it’s the truth.”
Her eyes narrow like they have the power to crush me in the process. “You know what your thing is?”
“What’s that?”
“Being the world’s biggest dick,” she snaps, finally showing some backbone again.
“Having the biggest dick or being the biggest dick?” I question with a smirk. “Just want to clarify since I’ve heard the first on more than one occasion.”
“You know, one moment, I think you might actually be a nice guy beneath that cold, hard, grouchy surface of yours, but then, you prove me wrong by being an asshole.”
“And asshole and a dick? Don’t hold back on my account, sweetheart. Please. Tell me what else I am since you seem to know so much about me.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but then quickly closes it. She even does that two more times before she lets out a deep exhale of air and turns back to Lance. “I’m really sorry about this. Thank you for cleaning it up.”
“Whatever,” the teenage grocery employee mutters as he halfheartedly finishes mopping. Ten bucks says the next person through this aisle eats it.
Without another word or glance in my direction, Norah finishes grabbing several more gallons of varying milks, carefully puts them in her cart, and heads for the front of the store like I never existed, my eggs and Danimals going with her.
I guess it’s safe to say I pissed her off.
Whatever. I don’t have the time or energy to let myself care. I have way more important stuff to worry about.
Quickly, since I’m starting over, I go back to my list and gather the things I need before stopping at the pharmacy to pick up Summer’s prescription and heading for the checkout myself.
Earl blathers about this year’s high school football team, and I pretend to listen as he scans my stuff and bags it for me.
“Later, Earl,” I call as I move through the automatic front door and head in the direction of my truck.
The sun is strong and bright today, and I can barely see for the reflection of light coming off the pavement. That’s probably why I make it all the way to my truck and unlock the driver’s side door before realizing I’m being accosted again.
“What the hell is your problem?” Norah yells from the passenger’s side of my truck, and I groan.
“Good grief, you’re like mold, you know that? I can’t seem to get rid of you.”
“God, you are so infuriating!” She slaps her palms against the sides of her thighs. “When I realized I bought your groceries, I stayed in an effort to mend fences. I thought you might need them, but maybe I’ll just egg your truck instead!”
“You do that, and you’re going to find yourself in a whole shitload of trouble, sweetheart,” I growl, rounding the truck to snag the bag from her before she can follow through.
I grab at the plastic, and she pulls it back, devolving us into a ridiculous game of grocery bag tug-of-war. When I inevitably win, her fists ball up at her sides in anger, and then suddenly, without any warning, the flat of her palm lands on my cheek in a cracking blow.
When she lifts her hand again, clearly ready to give me another strike, I step forward to grab her by the arms, to calm her down and stop my racing heart while I’m at it, but for some dumb, inconceivable reason, my lips end up on hers.
I kiss her. And she kisses me right back.
I take and taste and delve my tongue along the side of hers, and she lets out a needy little gasp into my open mouth. I slide my hands into the soft waves of her hair, and the movement presses our bodies tight against each other. I’m breathing heavily and so is she, and I’m no more than two point five seconds away from ripping our clothes off and pushing our bodies together in a way I know we would fit.
Call it intuition from years of stupidity, but this is the kind of passion I fucking know would translate into the bedroom.
It takes every ounce of control I have left, but so did starting my life over… I can do this.