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)
Amazingly, it no longer mattered if I got the tables cleaned early.
I was having coffee with Ronan.
* * *
I refilled Ronan’s coffee, poured myself a cup, and sat across from him. Luckily, the last few customers had seated themselves in Jane’s area, so she was looking after them. She had looked shocked when I told her I was taking a break. I never took breaks. But when she saw the direction I was heading, I got a subtle thumbs-up from her and a grin. I hoped my cheeks weren’t red when I sat down.
Ronan finished off his dinner, wiping his mouth and pushing away his plate. “That was good.”
“You eat a lot.”
He chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”
“You must have been hard to keep filled up as a teenager.” Evan was only twelve, and it felt as if he was constantly eating.
He poured the last of his shake into the glass and sipped it. “Yeah. I think my mom went grocery shopping at least twice a week. Four boys.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Four of you?”
“And a sister. Ava never ate as much as we did, though.”
“Big family.”
He nodded, not offering any other information.
“Are you close?” I asked.
He hesitated, but again, nodded. “Too close at times. What about you?”
I looked down at the table, took a sip of my coffee to stall, then drew in a deep breath. “There’s just my brother and me. My parents died a few years ago.”
He reached across the table and took my hand, the warmth of his encompassing mine. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “That must have been rough.”
I swallowed the thick feeling in my throat I always got when thinking about my parents. “Yeah, it was. Still is.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
I looked up and met his gaze. It was warm and caring. Concerned. Honest.
“I look after my brother now.”
“Big responsibility.”
“He’s my family,” I responded.
“Of course.”
I glanced down to where our hands were entwined on the table. His large thumb traced gentle circles on my skin in comfort. His caress was light, his skin warm, and his touch welcome. I looked up and met his eyes.
“I wasn’t sure you were coming back,” I blurted.
“I wasn’t sure either,” he admitted. Then he inhaled, his eyes never leaving mine as he studied me. His chin dipped slightly as if he had made a decision.
“But I forgot something.”
I frowned in confusion. “I don’t think anything was turned in.”
He chuckled. “No, I forgot something more personal.”
“Oh?” I asked, suddenly feeling breathless.
“I forgot to ask you out.”
I blinked, hoping I had heard him right.
“Ask me out?”
“On a date.” He lifted his shoulders. “Would you let me take you to dinner, Beth?”
Happiness surged through me, and for a moment, I basked in that feeling before reality kicked in. I frowned as I looked down at our hands, surprised to see they were still clasped together.
Ronan stiffened at my hesitancy. “Maybe I’ve overstepped.” He began to pull back his hand. “You probably have a boyfriend.”
I grasped at his fingers. “No. No, I don’t.”
“You don’t want to go out with me?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain.
“Are you hiding from the law?” he asked, leaning forward and talking low.
A smile tugged on my lips. “No.”
“A serial killer?”
“Nope.”
His eyes widened. “Would you prefer it if I were a woman?”
I burst out laughing. “No.”
“I’m so hideous that you won’t be seen with me?”
I tilted my head. “No. It’s just—”
“Just what?”
“My life, Ronan. It’s crazy. I work here four days a week. I go to school. I study. I look after my brother.”
“What about time for yourself?”
I laughed. “That’s rare. My shifts are Wednesday to Friday night. Every Saturday. Sunday is errands, schoolwork, and whatever else I have to catch up on. Monday is usually study group. I’m always running late. Always behind. Always playing catch-up. I would love to go out with you, but it’s not fair. You aren’t the sort of guy someone slots in when they have time.”
“I’m not?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.
“No.”
“Maybe I’m okay being slotted in.”
“You deserve more than that.”
He looked surprised by my words, and he smiled.
“You didn’t say anything on your schedule about Tuesdays.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It sounds like Tuesday is an open day. Aside from school, your brother, and everything else.”
“Usually, I study or relax if I can.”
He leaned forward, taking my other hand between his and holding them both tightly. “Maybe you could relax with me for dinner?”
“I’m not a fancy girl, Ronan. I don’t have a lot of dressy clothes in my closet.”
“I love tacos,” he announced.
“Um, who doesn’t?” I responded, wondering what tacos had to do with my lack of wardrobe.
“Tuesday is taco night. Tacos don’t require fancy clothing. So, you see, the planets have aligned, and now you must come with me and have tacos.” He nodded decisively. “On Tuesday.”