Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
“Sounds good.” He smiles at me.
I ignore him and stab at my salad. It’s not just that Eli is an ass; he’s a fine ass. He’s always been easy on the eyes and had the confidence and charm to go with it. I’ve never been on the receiving end, but I’ve been around and bore witness to the way women fall at his feet. My brother too. Thankfully, his douche status isn’t nearly as high as his best friend’s.
“Marley works here,” Cameron offers.
“Really?” Eli’s eyes light up.
I want to kick my brother under the table, but it would just be a wasted effort on my part. Instead, I continue to eat and ignore the two of them. At least I pretend to.
“What’s up with you?” Cameron asks.
I chance a glance and see that Eli is no longer looming over our table. “What do you mean?”
“You were rude.”
“I was not rude. I’m starving,” I say, stabbing another bite of my grilled chicken salad. “You didn’t mention that Eli was back in town.” Then again, he knows I’m not his biggest fan.
“Yeah, his gramps is ready to retire.”
“Nice,” I grumble. I could go a lifetime of not seeing Eli Morrison and be a happy girl.
“So, how’s the job?” Cameron asks, and I’m grateful for the change of subject.
“Good. It’s not exactly in my area of study, but it’s money that pays the bills. No way could I move back in with Mom and Dad after living on my own for four years.” I have a bachelor’s degree in business management with a minor in marketing. It’s hard to get companies to take a chance on you right out of school. I could have stayed in Texas, where I did my internship, but I missed home. I miss the views and the smells of Merlot. Dorothy had it right when she said there’s no place like home.
“I told you that you’re welcome to stay with me.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not be witness to your revolving door of ladies.” I shudder at the thought.
“I’m not that bad.”
“I’ve been home from college for three weeks, and every time I’ve stopped by, there’s a new woman there.” I give him a pointed look. “Are you ever going to settle down? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“Hey! Twenty-seven is not old, and how am I supposed to know who or what kind of woman I want to spend the rest of my life with if I don’t try them all out first?”
I exhale loudly. “One of these days, someone is going to come along and knock your ass to the ground, and I can’t wait to cheer her on.” He waves me off like it’s not a big deal to him. “I want to be an aunt one day,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “Kids aren’t out of the question, but not in the near future either.”
“Not that you know of,” I mutter under my breath.
“Hey! I heard that.”
I give him a cheesy grin and stick my tongue out. “How’s work for you?” I ask him.
“Good. I have a new app I’m developing. It’s another dating app, but this one is geared toward those over the age of sixty.”
“Really?”
“Hey, old guys need love too,” he says, barely able to contain his laughter.
“That’s you in forty years.” I chuckle.
“Hush it, little sister.” He points at me.
We spend the rest of our meal catching up. It’s so damn good to be home and to be able to spend time with him. Over the years, our relationship has changed. He still calls me his little sister, but he sees me as the adult that I am. Thankfully. Well, that is until I start dating someone. I was dating this guy, Rick, in college, and Cameron threatened to come to campus and kick his ass when I found him cheating on me. While I appreciated his willingness to help, we had a long talk about me being an adult and being able to handle my own shit—case in point. I went to Rick’s place, kneed him in the balls when he answered the door, and walked away. That’s something Cameron taught me, so of course, he was smug that I used his “ass-kicking skills.” His words, not mine.
“When do you work again?” he asks.
“Tomorrow night. Thankfully the other bartender is back from vacation, so my regular schedule of five days is back.”
“Any prospects on the job front?” he asks.
“No, but these things take time. I’ve applied to every company I can think of. Just hoping that they keep my information on file, and when they do need someone, they’ll call me. I don’t plan on being a bartender forever.”
“You’re killing it in tips, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, but that’s those tight V-neck T-shirts they make us wear.”
His jaw clenches. “Yeah, we need to get you out of here.”