Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 111278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
He snorted. “Yeah, you’re shit at it.”
Her mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t think of a retort quick enough. Which was odd. She usually always had a comeback.
The guy turned around and stomped back to his truck.
“Sorry to be such a problem!” she called out.
“Don’t do it again.”
He took off, and she just stared after him.
Jerk.
She moved quickly toward her car. She needed to return to her hotel room, shower, and hide. And eat something healthy.
Maybe with almonds.
An Almond Joy. That had to be mostly good, right?
She lifted the bike into the back of her car. Fuck. That was hard work.
Then she jumped in her car. Ouch. That wasn’t a smart move.
She was close to the edge of town when she saw the lights flash in her rearview mirror.
Fuck her life.
9
Gwen needed a drink.
Desperately.
She didn’t care if her doctors wouldn’t approve. It was one drink. And after the day from hell she’d had . . . it was just what the doctor ordered.
Or it should be. She happened to know that she wasn’t supposed to drink too much.
But one drink wouldn’t hurt, right?
She shuffled into the bar called the Wishing Well. Cute. It kind of rang a bell, too. Hadn’t Reuben mentioned something about a Trivia Night that Juliet came to here? She wondered what night it was.
Gwen paused just inside the door. Hmm, seemed quite busy for a Thursday night. Shrugging, she made her way to the bar.
Yes, she was aware that she was shuffling rather than walking. But she felt about a hundred. Not even a steaming hot shower had helped her muscles. Her butt hurt, her thighs hurt, and the chafing wasn’t fun.
Never again.
She slid onto a stool, letting out a slight hiss of pain. She had a big bruise on her hip and several smaller ones.
Oh, and then there was the ticket that deputy dickhead had given her.
Yeah, that had been unwanted and unnecessary.
So what if the bike wheel had been poking out the trunk of her car? It wasn’t doing anyone any harm.
That deputy just had it in for her.
Meanie bum.
She swore he was just making up laws and rules to punish her.
“Hi there, sweetheart. What can I get you?”
She looked up at the bartender. He was cute and he hadn’t called her ma’am.
“You’re officially my favorite person in Wishingbone.”
He grinned. “Because I am the dispenser of alcohol?”
“That too,” she said with a sigh. “But also, you didn’t call me ma’am.”
He laughed. “Tough day?”
“The worst. Do you know it’s not that easy to just get back on a bike and ride when you haven’t ridden in thirty-odd years?”
“I did not know that. But I’ll keep it in mind.”
“You’re young. You won’t have to worry for another twenty years.”
“I’m not that young. What can I get you to drink?”
“Oh, I’ll have a cosmopolitan.”
“Hmm, we don’t really serve that around these parts.”
She stared at him in shock. “What?”
“Joking. I’m joking. One cosmopolitan coming up. Sorry, wasn’t very funny, huh?”
“And people think my jokes aren’t funny. You nearly gave me a heart attack. You’ve gone down the list now. Way down.”
“What list is that?”
She turned as Dominic sat in the seat next to her.
How did he keep turning up where she was? It was like the universe was throwing them together. Or he really was her stalker.
“The list of her favorite people in Wishingbone,” the bartender said. “I’m number one.”
“You were number one,” she corrected. “Until you started to joke around about my cosmopolitans. They are not a joke, man. Not funny.”
“Sorry. I forget how important cocktails are.”
“Yeah, well, you’re like number five now. So it better be a good drink.”
“I’ll try my hardest,” the bartender vowed, his eyes twinkling.
“So where am I on the list?” Dominic turned toward her to ask.
Why did it feel so right to have him near?
“I never said that you even made the list.”
“Ouch. That hurts.”
All right, now she kind of felt bad. She winced. “Sorry. That burger delivery put you at about number seven.”
“It’s all right, Shortcake. I wasn’t really insulted,” he told her kindly.
She sighed. “Okay, good.”
“So, do you even know seven people in town?” he asked.
“Uh, as long as I don’t have to know their names, yep.”
That charming smile crossed his face. Shoot. He really was gorgeous. And nice. She wasn’t used to that. And she was starting to feel bad about how she’d treated him.
“Aren’t you mad at me?” she asked.
“Mad at you?”
“Here you are, sweetheart.” The bartender delivered her drink.
“Thanks.” She reached for her handbag, but Dominic reached over and stilled her hand.
“Put it on my tab, Noah. Same with any other drinks Gwen has while she’s here.”
“What? No, you can’t do that. He can’t do that,” she said to Noah.
“Seems like he just did, sweetheart.”
“Wait, don’t go putting drinks on his tab. You can’t do that.”
Noah grinned. “Seems like I just did.”