Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing there, lost in my memories, when the door behind me opened. I turned to see Saint walk inside. He paused, and his eyes studied his jacket that I was wearing, then he sighed.
“Who is he?” Saint asked me.
“I told you earlier, I’ve known him a long time, and once, we were friends. Then, I did something that made him hate me. We haven’t talked in six months,” I replied.
Saint didn’t walk any farther into the room. He remained just inside the door. We stood there in silence for several minutes. I didn’t know if I was supposed to say more or if he was deciding on what I would do next.
“He doesn’t hate you, and I doubt you’ve ever done anything to someone to make them hate you. You’re too damn sweet,” Saint said as he came inside and went to sit on the edge of his desk, then crossed his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t do it, but he thinks I did. I took the blame for my sister. Look, I am sorry. It won’t happen again. There are no other guys out there who will care about my working here.”
Saint let out a low chuckle, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “You can get under a man’s skin, Angel. That naivete normally isn’t my thing, but somehow, you make it work.” He held my gaze, his green eyes flashing something I did not want to acknowledge. “I’ve never heard you stutter. Not once, until tonight. He upset you.”
I said nothing. I didn’t want to admit that at one time, I couldn’t speak without stammering over every word. That was another life. I could control my speech now. Most of the time.
“Things are under control out there, and I think you could use a break. Go on home and get some rest. I’ll see you back here on Saturday,” he said, dropping his arms and standing back up. He said nothing more as he headed for the door.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked, afraid that him sending me home meant I could be fired soon.
I had been scheduled to work the next three nights. Now, he was sending me home and acting as if they didn’t need me.
He shook his head. “No, I’m not mad at you. Not fucking happy with myself, but I’m not mad at you.” He paused, then looked at his jacket wrapped around me. “That’s gonna mess with my damn head. Seeing you in my leather,” he added, then opened the door and left me there alone.
I was tired. Physically and, I realized now, emotionally. Going home sounded wonderful. Tonight was the first time I’d had to face someone I knew. I probably could have handled it better if I hadn’t been so worn down.
We had gone six months without running into each other. There was a good chance I wouldn’t see Rio for another six months. That thought both relieved and deflated me.
Chapter Seven
Rio
Work had done little to distract me today. I wasn’t in the mood to be around people, and if I wasn’t starving, then I would go directly to my bedroom. The smell of something cooking drew me toward the kitchen even though the sound of voices got louder.
The only cars outside were Saul’s, my best friend and the owner of this house; Henley’s, my sister and Saul’s girlfriend; and Drake’s. Those three I could deal with if that meant I would get some of Henley’s cooking. She was best at baking, but she could cook better than the three of us.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Henley was closing the fridge door, and her eyes met mine. She frowned. “I heard about last night,” she said.
I was sure Drake had given them both every detail.
“I bet,” I replied and shot Drake an annoyed glance.
He just shrugged and took a drink of the beer in his hand.
“Did she say why she was working there?” Henley asked.
Talking about Bryn was the last thing I wanted to do. Eating, showering, and getting in bed to hopefully sleep and forget Bryn was my plan.
“Needed a job,” I replied.
Henley rolled her eyes at my response. “Most women who work at places like that do so because they have to. They need the money that they can make there, doing it to take care of someone or to pay for school, something that a lower-paying job can’t cover. Does she have a kid?”
I shook my head. She didn’t have a kid, and she wasn’t going to fucking college. She was using folks not hiring her because of what she had done to my Jeep as an excuse. I didn’t fucking buy that.
“Her sister has a kid,” Drake said. “Or at least, I think so. We only hooked up twice, but she mentioned him. Said she was late because she had to get him to bed or some shit like that. I didn’t ask details.”