Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
For a split second yesterday, I felt her loss, and it’s not something I’m ready for.
I’ve spent years wanting to be worthy, but knowing I wasn’t. It wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t around, but I’ve touched her now, tasted her.
I’ve been the first person she smiles at in the morning and the last she sees before bed. I sleep beside her, wake with her in my arms. You’d think all the time we have together maybe would be enough.
Wrong.
All it did was make me want more.
Crave more.
Need more.
Of her, of us. Of all of it.
Like right now, she’s walking around the house dusting the photos on the wall, and all I want to do is grab a little fucking wand thing like she’s got and follow.
What the fuck is that about?
“Do you have to work tonight?” she asks, wiping her brow.
Closing the drawer to the silverware, I stack a few bowls and lift them into the cupboard. “No events tonight, so the bar’s closed, but I’ve still got a good hour of paperwork, and I need to sign off on payroll sometime today.”
She nods, dropping the dusty wand in the garbage can before tying the bag closed and pulling it from the can.
I meet her by it, taking it from her hold, and she smiles up at me.
“Come with me. We can get honey walnut shrimp from that place on the corner on the way home.”
“Make it the taco truck and I’m in.”
My eyes slide across the creamy skin of her cheeks, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Whatever you want, Sweets.”
A flush deepens the skin of her chest, and she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do I have time to shower?”
I nod.
“Do you want to join me?”
My frown comes so fast, and a quick and sharp “fuck yeah,” is on the tip of my tongue, but then she busts up, her laughter loud and teasing, washing away the thickness in the air.
When she turns and walks away, I have to dig my nails into my sides to keep from following, but the second the door clicks closed, a grin splits my lips.
We’re good, and that’s damn good.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Crew
“Okay, now you can turn around!” Davis smiles, holding her hands out as if she’s praising the talent at the end of a show. “It’s organized by the letters of the alphabet, and then date order.”
I grin, taking in the dozens of files she managed to make sense of, something I’ve needed to do for months, but figured would take a week I don’t have, and this girl did it in less than three hours.
“How’s it look?”
“Better than I’ve ever seen it.”
She takes my extended hand, and I tug her to me.
“Thank you.” I tuck her hair behind her ear, and she beams, slipping a little farther between my legs. Taking her hand, I run the pad of my finger gently over her stitches. “You okay?”
“Can’t even feel it anymore.”
“Let me clean it for you when we get home?”
Her lips pull to one side, and she nods.
“Ready to get some food?”
“And snacks for before?”
I raise a brow, grinning at her. “Before, huh?”
“And after, of course.” She laughs, tugging on my arm to get me to stand, and she doesn’t let go when we exit.
“So, is it your job as the manager here to increase profit margins?”
I eye her on the way out the door, clicking the padlock in place.
Manager, right.
“It is, yeah. Drew’s started helping with some of the ordering shit, but he follows whatever instructions I give him.”
She nods, pursing her lips as she looks at me over the hood.
“Why?” My eyes narrow.
She climbs in, so I slide in beside her. “So, while I was cleaning, I skimmed over some things, and you know, number brain and all, I couldn’t help but notice the variants in the produce invoices.”
“You cleaned and calculated the cost of lemons at the same time?”
“Better question is when am I not calculating?” She waves her hands between us. “We’re literally a giant formula I’m forever trying to find the answer to.”
If it weren’t for the playful glint in her eye, I might be pissed, but she is being playful.
“But anyway.” She sits back. “Yes, I did, and while I can’t say with one-hundred-percent certainty, I can with ninety-eight point nine, that you’re overpaying by six percent.”
I shrug. “That’s just the way it goes. Their fees change based on supply and who they get it from. Sometimes, my fruits come from completely different places than my herbs.”
She tsks her tongue, folding her legs in the seat. “That, Crewster, is because you’re contracting through larger corps… but if say you went straight to the farmers…”
“Cut out the middleman.”
“Yep.” She grins. “It might take a couple goes to find the right one, but with a little homework, I guarantee you’d see that number go back down. And I bet you could save even more if you agreed to a short-term contract. A little security goes a long way.”