Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Water is fine.”
“You don’t want anything else?” Gabriella shrugs, and I know she’s trying to be polite.
“I have sparkling cranberry juice.”
“Really? That’s my favorite.”
Again, I know. I’d never had it before. It’s why I bought it when I saw her getting it. I paid attention to all the details I could get when Cole would hand over his report on her at the end of each day.
"I'll have one with you." I go to the fridge to pull out our drinks along with some water. "The food should be here any second. I'm not that great of a cook."
"I can cook if you want. It could be part of my job." She sounds excited about it, so I nod in agreement. I don't love the idea of her working for me. Only because I don't want her doing things for that reason, but there is no getting around it right now. I’ll just have to come up with a solution so she can do as little as possible without feeling as though she’s doing so.
"Did you enjoy working at the coffee shop?" I ask, wanting to know more about her. I've gathered a few details from our conversations at the coffee shop, but I still need more.
Always more.
8
GABRIELLA
“I’m not sure I can eat any more.” I let out a sigh, leaning back in my chair. I can’t recall the last time I ate this much. If ever. Caleb ordered a ridiculous amount of food. I also can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.
“But there is still dessert.” Caleb lifts a lid off a piece of chocolate cake.
“Oh no.” I lick my lips. “Chocolate cake is my favorite.”
“Is that so?” He smirks as if he already knows that. I might have told him before. I can’t recall. We always talked about random things when he came into the coffee shop. Caleb would ask me questions and let me go on and on. He's the only person on this earth I believe enjoys my rambling.
Caleb puts a bite on his fork and brings it to my mouth. Of course I open it. I let out a small moan with the taste exploding.
“What made you want to be a nanny?” he asks, bringing another bite to my mouth.
Are we going back to this? I kind of skipped over it when he started pushing about the coffee shop and what other jobs I might want. I didn’t love the job, but I do enjoy being around people.
“I like kids.” There. That’s the truth. "Do you?” I try to picture him holding a baby. He's always in a suit, except for now. This is the first time I have ever seen him not in one. He appears more relaxed.
“Like kids?” He takes a bite for himself. “Pretty good.”
“Yeah, do you like kids?” I stare at him, really wanting to know the answer. It shouldn't matter to me, but it does. And I think I know why. I just can't let my mind go there. That's way too soon.
“I never gave it much thought. I haven’t really been around them.” He shrugs. "I was an only child, and most would call me a workaholic." I remember him once telling me he wasn’t close to his family. "Is that why you aspire to become a nanny? Because you like kids?”
“Kids and babies are honest, you know. The little ones were always my favorites when they entered one of the homes I was in, or when I found myself in one with them.”
“You moved around a lot.” Caleb’s eyes soften. I nod.
“To be honest”—I fiddle with my napkin—“I’m good with kids, and being a nanny, I think I would be great at it. I might be lying to myself." I peek over at him before I say the next part, wanting to see his reaction. "I just want my own babies, but I don't know if that's in the cards for me." It’s more than that, though. I want the whole package. The happily ever after and a family of my very own.
I tell Caleb the truth, hoping it doesn't scare him. I’m not sure what is happening between us, but I think talk of kids spooks men. At least that’s what I’ve heard. I can't get a read on his expression. It doesn't change. The man really does have a poker face.
"Why isn't it in the cards for you?" he asks.
"I'm homeless and jobless," I remind him, hating that I have to say those words out loud. Even if they are the truth. Sometimes it feels as though I take three steps forward in life and two back.
“You’re not homeless anymore.” Caleb reaches over and tucks one of my wild curls behind my ear. His simple touch makes me tingle.
“Well, I’m not going to be popping out babies here.” I try to joke, but Caleb’s expression is once again unreadable. It doesn't go unnoticed by me that he stays quiet. “Maybe we should talk about the decorations?” I switch the subject because this one is mixing me all up inside. Especially because of his kisses.