Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Can’t stand her,” Ignacia grumbled.
I frowned and watched as Swayze turned and crossed the road to our side, making it much easier to see her.
God, I could see the outline of her thong underneath of her shorts.
“Why?” I found myself asking but not looking away.
“When she first moved her business here, I was on the ‘welcome committee,’” Ignacia explained. “I’d come over to her office and introduced myself, given her a welcome basket full of goodies, and she acted like such a bitch. I swear, it was like I was shitting in her front office and not giving her a basket of baked goods.”
That didn’t sound like something Swayze would do.
Sure, she was abrupt at times, but I had a feeling that she wouldn’t be downright rude unless the person had deserved it.
“And since we’re both on the board for the city, she purposefully opposes everything that I promote,” Ignacia continued.
Ahead of me, Swayze came to a sudden halt, and she leaned over and gathered her breath for a few seconds before she continued to walk forward.
The way she walked, though, signaled that she was hurting. I could tell by the way that she was trying not to put pressure on her left foot that the keg had fallen on two days ago, that it was likely still bothering her.
“And she plays the pity party so well,” Ignacia grumbled. “I mean, how is it that she can have every man in a two-mile radius now looking at her because she’s limping?”
It was then that I realized that in my focus on the woman in front of me, I’d momentarily forgotten to pay attention to my surroundings.
Ignacia was correct, too.
Swayze’s limping had caught quite a few people’s attention. But not just male attention. Female as well.
Up ahead, the woman holding the door to the restaurant that I’d called to make reservations at for Ignacia and me, was staring at Swayze.
Another couple had been heading to their car when the woman called out a greeting to Swayze.
“I swear,” Ignacia grumbled. “It’s like that limp of hers makes her automatically better to talk to. To discuss things with. To look at. It’s so fucking annoying.”
What it sounded like to me was that Ignacia was making shit up because she didn’t like her.
Swayze passed through the door of the restaurant, and Ignacia sighed. “And, of course, she would be going to the same place we are. How can she even wear that in there? The place is fairly formal.”
I fucking hoped not. I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
Granted, Ignacia was much more dressed up than I was, and generally people didn’t care what men were wearing compared to women, but I still wasn’t even dressed for ‘nice.’
My jeans had a beer stain on them from earlier when I was replacing keg lines.
I’d intended to change them, but Ignacia had gotten there early, and I’d forgotten.
“Guess that maybe we should find somewhere else to eat,” I suggested. “Because I’m not all that dressed up.”
Ignacia looked at me with horror on her face. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
I gestured toward my clothes. “I’m not dressed up. You said it was pretty formal… I didn’t know that.”
She waved away my concern. “No, no. You’re dressed just fine.”
Frowning, I caught the door to the restaurant and held it open for Ignacia, who offered me a large smile as she passed by me.
I felt a rock settle in my gut upon seeing it, and knew instantly that this was a mistake.
I should’ve followed my gut and stayed away from her.
I also should’ve just pulled my head out of my ass when it came to Swayze.
But apparently, I was incapable of making decisions when it came to her that would benefit me.
Trying to keep my attention off of Swayze and her tight as fuck shorts, I looked down at my hands as Ignacia announced our arrival.
“Oh, great.” The hostess who’d greeted Swayze with such excitement dulled her tone upon seeing Ignacia. “Right this way.”
I looked up in time to see the hostess leading us to our table. Right next to where Swayze had taken her seat. With Bruno.
A man that also worked with me and was in the same motorcycle club as me.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I gritted my teeth and took the seat that was next to Bruno and offered him my hand.
Bruno took it.
“Patrick,” Bruno grumbled. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” I lied. “How about you?”
Bruno turned his eyes to Swayze and a grin lit his mouth. “Can’t complain anymore.”
Swayze snorted and settled herself into her chair, smiling over at Ignacia. “Hello, Ignacia. How are you?”
Ignacia curled her lip at her. “Been better. You?”
Swayze shrugged. “Same.”
Bruno’s eyes met mine with a lifted brow as if to ask, ‘What the fuck was that?’
I shrugged.
I knew that Ignacia hadn’t given me the full story. I also knew that Swayze was likely a nice person. I just couldn’t see her as being a bitch.