Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
It seems as if karma took the night off.
I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Aleena, and I sat at this end of the bar because it had an uninterrupted view of the only restaurant in a fifty-mile radius that serves freshly made mедови́к.
“It’s looking a little worse for wear,” the bartender continues, reminding me that he asked a question.
“That’s the design. Its sour cream and condensed milk combination resembles curdled milk.” When he screws up his nose, I laugh. “Sounds disgusting, but it is actually quite delicious.” He gives me a look as if to say, Are you gonna cough up the goods? “I would if it was mine. I bought this for my sister.”
He stops looking like he’s on the verge of dying when my last word echoes in his ears. “Your sister?”
“Uh-huh. It’s her birthday today. She’s twenty-two and supposedly so in love with this hotel’s mедови́к. If I were to find her anywhere today, it would be here.”
“Oh…” The shortness of his reply and the fact he is a stranger shouldn’t make it seem as if he said so much more than he did, but you’d swear he didn’t shut up until he was blue in the face.
“What?”
Remorse darkens his eyes. “There was a group of girls in earlier when my shift started.” He lowers his focus to the container I’m sheltering like a bodyguard would a pop star. “They were seeking a slab of that but left with some other sickly combination and a heap of attention.” His jaw tics when he scans the patrons surrounding us. “Almost as much attention as you’ve been getting for the past four hours.” He returns his eyes to my face before dragging them down my body. He looks closer to my age than the thirty bracket I was placing him in when his teeth catch his lower lip, and he murmurs on a moan, “Almost.”
I’d usually be flattered by his compliment. I’m just too disappointed to respond how I generally would. Furthermore, even with hours whizzing by fast enough to make me dizzy, I haven’t been able to get my exchange with Andrik out of my head. It keeps leaking through the cracks and has me scanning the crowd as often for a dark-haired man as I’ve been seeking a blonde-haired beauty.
After swallowing my disappointment, I ask, “How long ago did your shift start?”
The bartender checks the time while tossing a tea towel over his shoulder. “Almost eight hours ago, which means I’m only half an hour from clocking out.” His eyes display his interest, not to mention his smile when he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to share that? I can rustle up some forks in my apartment. It’s only a couple of miles from here.”
I’d feel bad turning him down if he didn’t have the gaga eyes of a buxom trio at the other end of the bar. They’ve been eyeballing him all evening and seem more than eager to try out the position I falsely claimed I was a pro at earlier today.
“I’m—”
“About to break my ever-lovin’ heart.”
It is evil for me to smile. It can’t be helped, though. You can’t hear the playfulness in his tone. It has me on the cusp of believing a night with him would be worth the possible discomfort I’ll face when I finally build up the courage to test Dr. Hemway’s theory that not all endometriosis sufferers endure pain during sex.
He slides a napkin with his digits on it across the sticky bar. “In case you change your mind.” My smile notches my cheeks higher when he moseys to the other side of the bar while saying, “I’ll even kick them out of my bed mid-deed if you’re not into sharing.”
“And if I was interested?” I ask, doing anything to keep the tension off the fact that I turned down an invitation from a devilishly good-looking man for a stranger I’ll most likely never see again.
The bartender groans before he grips his chest like his heart can’t possibly sustain more damage. “I’d die a very happy man.”
He winks like he has the world at his feet when I slip off the barstool and store his number in my pocket before he gives the buxom trio the star treatment they’ve been seeking for the past several hours.
I smile, glad someone is getting their rocks off tonight, before I head for the exit.
I’m about to break into the foyer when the bartender’s deep rumble stops me in my tracks. “They restock the dessert cabinet every day at midday.” He waits for me to crank my neck back to face him before saying, “That’s what they told the blonde in the middle of the pack when she wasn’t as adamant as you that she must have that specific cake.”
His reply announces he was watching me longer than I was seated in his bar, awaiting the arrival of my baby sister. I let it slide, however, since he’s given me hope I may still see her before returning home for another long stint of absence.