Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
The way I keep glancing over at him, I almost end up overcooking the eggs but manage to save them just in time and get them on the plates, which I bring over to the table along with the toast and jam. I then go over to the fridge and grab the orange juice. I can practically feel Dax’s eyes on me as I walk – or is that just my imagination?
Do I just want him to want me, or is he actually attracted to me?
Certainly a man of his age, with his good looks, wouldn’t be into a young, inexperienced girl like me. I mean, what do I really have to offer other than some breakfast food and maybe a pasta dish or two? Besides, he promised my dad he’d look after me, not look after me.
“Good eggs,” Dax says as he takes his first bite.
“Thanks,” I reply. Then, “How old are you?”
The question just slips out, and I instantly regret it. It’s the kind of thing a teenage girl might ask a guy she just met while touring a college campus – definitely not an appropriate question for her father’s best friend.
Dax frowns, then, almost amused, raises his eyebrows at me. “Why do you ask?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I stumble, trying to come up with a good reason for my idiotic question. “Dad mentioned you knew each other from back in the day, so I was just wondering if you two were the same age.”
“Ah.” Dax smiles. Yeah, there’s no way he bought that. “Well, your pops is a few years older than I am. I’m thirty-eight.”
Thirty-eight…
Am I crazy for thinking that’s the perfect number? Just looking at him now – he’s so far from the boys I’ve had to put up with around here, boys like Trevor who seem to only know how to tease and harass and pester me when they’re drunk.
I haven’t even known Dax a day and already he’s giving me that same sense of security that I get when I’m around my dad. Only there’s something else going on inside me that’s definitely not there when my dad’s around, and as Dax looks at me from across the table, that feeling just continues to grow.
He’s so…intense, but also so calming at the same time.
I’ve never been with a man before; I’ve always been too silly and awkward, but thoughts and fantasies are starting to race through my mind without warning. Thoughts like how I could cook for him and then show him my body as I bent over the sink to clean up and do the dishes, or how I could sexily unbutton each button of his shirt after he came inside after a hard day’s work, how I could look into his eyes and let him know exactly what I was thinking…
But of course, knowing my luck and the way I do things, I’d end up looking like I was trying too hard at the sink and come off like a goof ball, or I’d somehow manage to ruin his shirt while I was trying to get it off his body, and he’d just laugh and look at me like the awkward, hopeless, inexperienced girl I am.
But I did manage to pull off breakfast, right? Maybe I can learn to be more than what I am. Maybe I can stop being such a silly little girl and learn how to be a woman.
“Your pops going to jail really knocked me on my ass,” Dax comments. “Must have thrown you for a loop too.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “He waited until the last minute to tell me.”
“He tell you he was innocent?”
“Yes. I believe him.”
“So do I,” Dax replies. “That doesn’t help you much, though, does it?”
“No,” I sigh. “I’ve been thinking about getting a job at the diner. You know, to earn some money while he’s away.”
Dax shakes his head and gives me a firm look. “That’s not happening.”
The intensity in his eyes is almost frightening, but then the corners of Dax’s lips twist into a small smile.
“Becca, you’re not working,” he says. “At least not while I’m around.”
“But…what about money? What am I going to do about—?”
“I’ll take care of you.” He smiles. “I’ve got money for now and may have a lot more coming down the line pretty soon. So don’t you even think about going down to that crappy old diner and getting a job, missy. I don’t care how good you can make eggs. You understand me?”
Dax’s words drape over me like a warm blanket, and my face starts to heat up. I nod and look away before I start full-on blushing. We finish our meal in silence, and I take our dishes over to the dink and begin to wash them.
This is it, I think. Maybe I can actually pull this off.