Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Then he twirled me away and shook his head, muttering about distractions. Without thinking, I reached out and cupped his cheek, stroking the skin. “I like being your distraction,” I whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His eyes crinkled in delight, and he turned his head, kissing my palm. “Me too, baby. Me too.”
Not long after, we sat down to eat. I had added a candle, and he lit it, turning the kitchen lights down low. He had music playing on his phone, and we talked as we ate, me complimenting him on his dinner. The steak was tender and delicious, the baked potatoes fluffy and overflowing with butter and sour cream. Even the salad was tasty.
“I don’t remember the last time someone cooked for me, aside from Hannah,” I murmured, looking at my plate. “And usually, those meals are a joint collaboration.”
He sliced off a piece of steak, holding his fork to my mouth. “Open, Cherry G. Let me feed you.”
My lips parted, and he slipped the steak in, cutting himself a larger piece and chewing. I closed my eyes as the flavors of the meat, the butter, garlic, and rosemary he’d basted the steak with, burst on my taste buds.
“Oh God. So good.”
He grinned. “I guess you’ll keep me around then, huh?”
I tried to hide my returning smile as I cut into my own steak. Teasingly, I held out my fork. “Do I get to feed you, Dom?”
With a low growl, he leaned in, gripping the back of my neck and pulling my face close. He kissed me hard. Deep. Then he pulled back, his chest working hard.
“You already do, Cherry G. You already do.”
I had no words to respond to him. With a wink, he gripped my wrist then closed his lips around my fork, taking the piece of steak I offered. His voice was rough and low when he spoke.
“Almost as good as you.”
I reached for my wine. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cherry
Neither of us spoke much during dinner. The odd comment, lots of looks passing between us. He was different tonight. Always intense, he had an underlying sense of unease or sadness about him. It was reflected in his eyes at times. I longed to ask him, but I had a feeling he wasn’t ready to talk. But I also sensed what was bothering him might have led to this impromptu visit. I knew I had to be patient. When he was ready to talk, he would. Hannah was much the same way, and I had learned when to push and when not to.
We finished dinner and sat back, sipping the last of the wine.
“I didn’t bring dessert,” he mused. “I didn’t think.”
“I can handle that,” I said with a grin. “It’s covered.” I stood, taking our plates. “I’ll tidy up and make coffee. You sit and tell me about your day this time.”
He stopped me with a hand on my waist. He gazed up at me, and once again, I saw the sadness lurking in his eyes. But he smiled and tugged me down, kissing me gently. “This dinner has been the best part of it,” he murmured.
I kissed him back, unable to hug him since my hands were full. “Mine too,” I admitted.
“Getting used to me?” he teased.
I shrugged. “A little.”
He grinned and pushed me away. “Get to work.”
I put on the coffee to brew and tidied up. There wasn’t much since Dom cleaned as he cooked. I put the dishes in the small portable dishwasher in the corner, rinsed out the pan he’d used for the steaks, and wiped down the counter as he talked. He told me a funny story about a customer in the garage that made me laugh.
“She insisted she wanted the ‘good air’ for her tires. She told us the garage she’d used in Toronto kept it special for her. She even showed us the bill.”
“I assume she knows nothing about cars.”
He shook his head. “Maxx explained it to her and the fact that she’d been ripped off for a couple of years. When she found out there shouldn’t be a charge for filling her tires, she was upset. Maxx went through all her bills. They’d charged her for all sorts of things. Extra thick oil, extended warranty spark plugs—the list went on. Charly was so incensed that she called the garage while the customer was there and tore them a new asshole. They agreed to refund some of her money, but not enough. She advised the customer to go to the Better Business Bureau with a complaint.”
“How did she find you?”
“She was driving by, and her tire pressure light came on. Maxx thinks they were underfilling her tires purposely so she would go and they would ‘top them up.’ She was paying a monthly maintenance fee for it since they told her that was the cheapest route. Maxx—all of us—hates to see people, especially women, get ripped off. He convinced her to come to the classes we hold so she could understand her car better. She’s young and pretty and, frankly, clueless—an easy target.”