Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
“This coming from a man who is spending a fortune on roses just to get laid,” Niko rolls his eyes.
I get that in the past I’ve been more of a lady’s man, a player, but I don’t like that being said even as a remote possibility when it comes to Zoe. I’m not looking to get laid here. Although, I can’t wait to have Zoe on my bed beneath me. I want to keep her, though—not hurt her. There’s a connection with her that I’ve never felt before. I can’t explain it, but with one look, I knew Zoe Cooper was the one.
Now, I just have to convince her.
Chapter 11
Zoe
It should be no surprise that I’m working late again. It’s eleven thirty, and I have thirty minutes to go. It wasn’t a surprise the other waitress couldn’t be bothered to show up. The owner was fit to be tied and fired her by leaving a message on her answering machine.
That means I’ve worked my shift and all of hers. I’m past the point of caffeine giving me a boost. I’m exhausted and my feet are aching. It’s not just my body that’s tired, however. My brain is mostly mush at this point. No one should have to work in this diner from seven in the morning till midnight.
If there’s one saving grace, it’s that we don’t get much business this time of night. The owner likes to keep us open until midnight to serve the paramedics when they get off work from their shift change. Tonight, they’ve all come and gone—leaving the diner empty. Well, except for me and Joe—one of the line cooks. After being here for over twelve hours, the lull has only made me more aware of how achy my feet are.
I’ve spent most of the night looking forward to going home and being alone—with all my roses. My dad went out of town on a fishing trip with friends. It’s rare for him to do anything but work. I have thought of Callan all night. I’m looking so forward to seeing him again. I shouldn’t be, but I really am.
I don’t know why I’m even allowing myself to get close to him. The more I think about it, the more I know we don’t fit into each other’s world. I’m miserable in the circles he moves in. I have a hard enough time trying for Emilia. I need to remind myself that this can’t go anywhere. It’s just one date for lunch. That’s it and even if I wanted more, it just can’t happen.
I look up when the door opens. Callan walks into the diner as if he knows I was thinking about him. His crooked smile has my heart racing. I try my best to hide the fact I’ve been thinking about him again.
“Are you stalking me?” I ask, pretty sure that we’ve had this discussion before.
“Believe it or not, this time, I will definitely say yes,” he says. His deep voice sends shivers down my back.
“Should I be worried?” I ask, quirking my eyebrow.
“I would never hurt you.”
The unspoken promise and tone of his voice, added with the way he keeps staring at me, fills me with this electrical charge—making heat roll through my body. My gaze moves over him, taking him in. God. It should be against the law for a man to look this good. Tonight, he’s dressed more casually in a blue cashmere sweater and gray slacks. I never thought a man in a sweater would make me feel hot all over. I was wrong. So wrong. The light blue contrasts nicely with his dark features and sun-kissed skin. Being next to him in a t-shirt with the diner logo and jeans on while he looks like a movie star, makes me feel like a ragamuffin. I run a hand over my flat hair feeling all the flyaway strands that’ve come out of my ponytail during my shift.
“What would you like to order?” I ask, not needing to pull out my notebook. I’ll yell it out to Joe.
“Coffee, and if you have any of your pies left, I won’t complain,” Callan says playfully.
“You’re in luck,” I laugh. “We have some chocolate crème pie left.”
“Perfect,” he says, taking a seat at the bar.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” I ask.
“Just black.”
I nod then pour him a cup of coffee and set a slice of pie in front of him. “Here you go. Of course, I’m not sure it’s smart to feed my stalker.” I let him settle in as I lean against the counter, watching him. I breathe in the scent of his cologne, and I have to fight not to close my eyes in pleasure.
“Confession time,” he says quietly after taking a bite of the pie. “I tried to have some things delivered to you today. The shop said no one was home. When they still couldn’t deliver again tonight, I got a little worried that something was wrong. Especially since it was after nine.”