Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Because I’m pretty sure it’s not,” I said, sighing at hearing it out loud.
But as the hours dragged on with no word from Dennis, even after a few missed calls, a voicemail, and another text or two, it was only becoming clearer and clearer that shit was more complicated than just someone dropping the ball or underachieving.
And what did my fucked up ass think about as I was falling to sleep?
That maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if shit was going down if it meant that I got to see the pretty florist again.
I mean… what the fuck?
CHAPTER FOUR
Mere
“Did I tell you about the hot guy I ran into at the grocery store?” Vega asked after stumbling out of her bedroom covered in Cheeto dust with her hair pressed down across the crown of her head from her headphones.
“You didn’t,” I said, arranging a salad. Romaine, kale, spinach, Bibb lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, onions, and carrots. There would be baked chicken to layer across it in exactly three minutes.
I was good at timing things like that. I knew exactly how long it took me to prepare each part of a meal, so everything would be done in unison. I knew it was anal. Vega was kind enough to call it quirky.
“So I was making my way down the aisle in a full-on don’t-give-a-fuck outfit. And I nearly plowed the guy over. As much as they’re not my thing, it would have been a shame to get that suit of his all dirty,” she said, reaching across the island to snag a cherry tomato, completely oblivious to the way I’d stiffened. “Ugh. Tomatoes are garbage this time of year. I can’t wait for the farmer’s market to open up again. You okay?” Vega asked, looking up at me, brows drawing together. “You’re paler than usual.”
“Yeah, fine,” I said, spinning around to grab the oven mitts and pull out the chicken. “So, did you, ah, set up a date?” I asked, not sure why my heart and throat felt a bit constricted when I asked.
I mean, I’d just spoken to the man.
And he’d even scared me a little.
I couldn’t possibly be jealous that Vega had worked her usual charms on the handsome stranger.
Vega had always had a sort of carefree ease with the opposite sex that both scared and fascinated me. Scared, because I worried that she was sometimes reckless about it. But also fascinated me because I had no such comfort around men.
I mean, sure, I could be customer service charming to men who came in looking for a bouquet for their wives without knowing their favorite flower or even color.
And I could speak to men in the supermarket or around town.
But those interactions were always underlined with a bit of uncertainty and discomfort.
Hell, dating was such a nightmare for me that I typically just avoided it.
“Oh, you know me. I don’t like the guys in suits. They take themselves too seriously. I like a more rough-around-the-edges sort of guy.”
We had to be talking about the same guy, right?
How many handsome strangers in suits could be in Balm Harbour at one time?
But the guy I’d met could certainly be called rough around the edges, couldn’t he? What with his tattoos and the dark look in his eyes. And, well, I was pretty sure after replaying the interaction in my head all day since there hadn’t been a single customer, that I’d caught sight of a ring in his tongue.
Straight-up-and-down men didn’t have tongue piercings.
“His ink was so yummy, though,” she said, making me turn, more certain than a moment before that it was the same guy, just seen through unique lenses worn by two wholly different women.
I don’t know why I didn’t mention meeting him as well.
My gaze slid toward the bouquet of flowers I’d brought home. Ones I was going to be putting on my nightstand, since the ones in the kitchen were still fresh.
That single white rose was the only flower devoid of vivid color, making it stand out amongst its peers.
Why I’d done that was a complete mystery.
It was just a weird day, that was all. Everything would go back to normal the next day.
At least, that was what I told myself.
“I even told him that I was trying to stop fucking bad guys. You’d be proud of me,” Vega said as I started to slice the chicken to layer on top of the salads.
“I am,” I said, nodding. But not because she wasn’t chasing another bad news guy. Because I didn’t want her chasing that particular bad news guy.
Did that make sense?
Not at all.
But it was how I felt.
I was going to go ahead and blame the fact that it had been more months than I cared to think about since I’d even had a date with a man, let alone anything else. And the way I was responding to a handsome stranger who seemed to ooze sexual confidence was completely understandable.