Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I enjoyed meeting Kim and Diane but left after dinner when plans for continuing the evening were far more suited to couples rather than a plus-one. I invented an excuse and left.
With a groan, I let my head fall back against the wall. I had spent the rest of the night alone in my condo. I highly doubted my brothers returned to their places, or if they had, they weren’t alone.
I looked at my watch. It was only just after eight. I was hungry, but the idea of going back to the condo and ordering in didn’t appeal to me.
I stared at my feet, knowing exactly what did appeal. Some good music playing on the jukebox, something delicious and filling, and the dark, smiling eyes of a certain waitress. She had been on my mind a lot. I replayed our conversations in my head, remembering the pleasing cadence of her voice. The gentle disposition she had shown me. The strength she displayed when that asshole crossed the line. She was full of surprises, and I liked that. Probably more than I wanted to admit.
I ran my hand over my hair with a grimace. I had no idea if she even worked tonight. Just because she had been there last Thursday didn’t mean she would be there today. Yet the yearning lingered.
I pushed myself up off the floor.
There was only one way to find out.
Chapter Four
Beth
I came from the kitchen with a full tray, concentrating on the heavy order I was carrying and nothing else. I delivered the full plates, checked on refills, then turned to scan the diner. I had heard the bell ring, so I knew there were more customers to look after. It had been a busy night, and I hoped it would slow down soon so I could start clearing sections for the morning.
I had to stop for a moment and collect my thoughts when I spied the new customer.
Ronan was sitting in the same booth as last week, studying the menu. He was dressed in a tight-fitting Henley, the material stretched over his barrel chest and large arms. His biceps flexed as he turned the pages of the menu, his brow furrowed and his full lips pursed. He squinted in concentration, then huffed and reached into his jacket pocket for a pair of glasses, slipping them on his nose.
I had no idea how a simple pair of glasses made him look even sexier than he had only a moment ago, but they did. I noted there was no gym bag tonight, and I wondered if he had left it at work or was only on a break.
He looked up as I approached, our eyes locking. His brows lifted as he studied me, a smile playing on his lips. He pulled off the glasses, holding them in his large hands.
“Hi,” he said as I got to his table. “I didn’t know if you’d be here.”
I held up my hands. “Here I am.”
He leaned back in the booth, laying his arm along the top of the bench. “There you are,” he replied, his voice pitched low. It made me shiver, and for a moment, we stared. I had to clear my throat before I could speak.
“Do you know what you want?”
He rubbed his bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “Not sure if what I want is on the menu, but I was wondering if the clubhouse is pressed turkey or the real stuff?”
“They roast the turkey daily.”
“Then a clubhouse. And a salad.”
I paused, my pen hovering over the pad, waiting, but he didn’t say anything else. “On a hunger strike today, Ronan?”
He laughed, the sound booming in the restaurant. “Soup any good?”
“It’s vegetable today, and yes. Delicious.”
“I’ll have that too. The sandwich comes with fries?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Add a shake, water, and coffee. And save me a piece of cake.”
“Hummingbird or carrot?”
He frowned, rubbing his chin with the arm of his glasses. “Maybe one of each?”
“Okay.”
“And one other thing.”
“Sure?” I asked, waiting for his order.
“Maybe you could join me for coffee when the place slows down.”
“Oh, ah…”
He reached out, waiting until I placed my hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around my palm firmly, although his touch was gentle. “Is that against the rules? Having coffee with a customer?”
“No.”
“Great.” He beamed.
“I don’t know when it will slow down.”
“I’m not in any hurry.”
“Okay, then.” I waited then tugged. “But I need my hand back to do my work.”
“If I have to.” He relinquished his hold, but not before dropping a fast kiss to my wrist. My heart rate sped up at the touch of his mouth on my skin. I suddenly wondered how his lips would feel on the rest of my body. My mouth. I felt my cheeks heat, and I turned and hurried away.
“Extra pickles,” he called out. “Please.”
“Got it,” I responded over my shoulder.