Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Closing the pub down is easier now that I know the routine, but my blood is pumping wildly as I hand over the cash from my sales to Samuel at the end of the night.
“So, Flynn Coleman, huh?”
He doesn’t bother looking up from the money in his hands as he checks my math. At first, I was offended when he did this in front of me, but I realized very quickly that he does it with every waitress at the end of their shift.
“Who?” The question comes out as a squeak, but I don’t think he’d believe me if I managed it without the upward inflection either.
He sat down for over half an hour chatting with Flynn, and when he finally stood up to go back to his office, he didn’t say a word to me about the man not having a plate of food or a beer in front of him. I’m going to be humiliated if I find out Flynn laid all of our business at my boss’s feet.
Sam chuckles before handing me back a couple of bills. “Seems your head isn’t in it today. You’re over by thirty-seven bucks.”
“Really?” I mean, I’m not surprised. That insufferable man was here all day distracting me, but I shove the mistake deep into my pocket, grateful for the money even though it wouldn’t have made me bat an eyelash less than a month ago.
“See you tomorrow?”
“You got it, boss.”
Sam follows me to the front of the pub, unlocking the door for me and holding it open as I walk through.
“Goodnight, Remington.”
“Good—” I freeze in my tracks finding Flynn leaning up against a dark truck right in front of me. “N-night.”
Sam laughs before stepping back inside and locking the door at my back.
I ignore his smile. Ignore the way the moon makes his silky hair shine. I don’t even acknowledge the playfulness dripping from his gorgeous blue eyes.
I turn and walk back to my hotel, walking a little faster to test his own speed when I recognize his footsteps behind me. He speeds up. When I slow down, so does he, keeping a mere few feet of distance between us. He doesn’t reach for me or thrust me against the wall to wrap me in his arms or his scent. He’s not close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, but that doesn’t stop the goosebumps from forming on my arms either.
When I slow down to a crawl, he lines up beside me, eyes straight ahead with a gentle maddening smile teasing his full lips.
His hand brushes mine twice, but the contact is so brief, I don’t know if it was intentional or not.
By the time we make it to the front of my hotel, my breathing has changed. I’m turned on and bordering on livid. I want to hate him, but neither my mind nor my body will get onboard with those emotions.
Thinking he’s going to let me walk inside without a word or single touch, I nearly collapse when his arms encircle around my waist, fingers splayed on my lower body.
“I see you, Remington Blair, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He releases me just as fast as he touched me, and although my mouth opens and closes several times, no sound comes out. It’s for the best because I wouldn’t be able to speak past the lump lodged in my throat anyway.
The tears don’t fall until the elevator doors close in front of my face.
***
When I left the hotel to catch a cab, I fully expected Flynn to be waiting downstairs.
He wasn’t, and that’s how I ended up standing at the door to his condo rather than heading to the grocery store to restock my mini-fridge.
The text I got from an unknown number shocked me. It contained Flynn’s home address and a phone number. The text I sent back, demanding to know who it was and how they got my number was left unread. Curiosity, and maybe a hint of desperate need, is what landed me here.
My knock echoes down the empty hall behind me, but it doesn’t take long for the door to swing open.
“Rem—”
I push myself against his chest, pressing my mouth to his before he can get out my full name. Scenarios ran through my head on the entire drive over, making me wonder if it was a mistake, if it were possible that I’d show up and another woman was going to answer the door.
But he said he saw me, and I know he didn’t mean in the physical, technical sense. The words were exactly what I needed to hear, and when his arms circle my waist, lifting me off the floor, I have my answer. He’s alone and very happy to see me.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunts against my mouth, but I swallow his next sentence.