Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I fully understand the bottom dollar. I know times are tough and will only get more challenging in this economy, but I also know that you get what you pay for. I very easily could've lowered my cost of the renovation to get the job, but I value my time, and anyone who respects me should value it as well.
My father worked himself into an early grave, giving everything he had to everyone in this community. It's up to me to break the chains of that same legacy by demanding the respect my skill level deserves, even at the cost of lazy construction from the city if that's the way folks want to go.
A horn behind me makes me pull my foot off the brake and slide it toward the gas, but it also draws the attention of several men in the crew, and I don't miss the smirks on their faces as I drive by while they read my business logo on the side of my own truck.
By the time I pull up in front of the bakery, I'm wondering if going to the bar wouldn't be better, but the damn place isn't open this early.
I pull in a deep breath as I shove open the door to my truck and exhale it when my feet hit the asphalt. I'm not one to let the shit that's bothering me fester, but at the same time, I don't know how to approach the shit that's going on with Riley. It's clear she has some self-esteem issues, and as much as that shouldn't be my problem, I can't help but think I should do my best to make her see just how lovely she is.
"You just going to stand there, or are you coming in?"
I look up, the voice breaking me from my thoughts, smiling when I see Cash Tucker, Lindell's police chief, standing in the open doorway of the bakery.
"Lost in my thoughts," I mutter as I approach, holding my hand out for him to shake.
His eyes immediately cast down the street toward the work crews in front of the old theater before they meet mine.
"He's a fool for not hiring you," Cash mutters as he releases my hand. "But Adalynn's cupcakes will make it all better. Have a good day, Mac."
"You, too," I say before stepping inside.
The scent of sugar, butter, and something a little spicy but nonetheless delicious hits me in the face, and a genuine smile tugs up the corners of my mouth.
"You look like a man on a mission," Adalynn says with a wide smile of her own from behind the bakery counter.
"Was hoping you had enough to feed a hungry crew," I say as I step up to the counter and drop my eyes to the display, my mouth watering at the selection.
"I can make that happen," Adalynn assures me. "Want me to put together a mix?"
"That'd be great," I say, knowing the cupcakes are going to be amazing but also very aware that they won't even come close to the breakfast bake that Riley made and shared with me not long ago.
Those thoughts make me think of dinner and have me wondering if the deal we made about her cooking and me paying for the groceries will still be a thing after the weird ass day we had yesterday. That makes me feel like an expectant asshole, which in turn frustrates the hell out of me because I can't recall any other time in my life when I let a woman take over so much space in my head.
"Mac?"
"Huh?" I say, bringing my eyes up to Adalyn. I can tell by the frown creasing her forehead that I didn't hear her call my name at least the first time.
"Everything okay?"
Of course," I say, feeling like a jerk for sort of lying to her. "Can you make sure to throw in one of those banana pudding cupcakes?"
"Sure thing," she says, the smile she gives me before going back to the display case to finish the order not reaching her eyes.
Cash assumed the crew down the street was the reason for my awkwardness this morning, and he's partially right, but I can tell when Adalynn closes the cupcake box that she sees a deeper reason behind the shadows in my eyes this morning, but I don't give it a voice. Instead, I give her a wide smile and pay for my items.
It wouldn't surprise me if she isn't already well aware that there's something going on between Riley and me. That damn nosey neighbor across the street posted yesterday, asking if Riley was getting work done on her home because the Hammertime Construction truck has been parked at her house for days. The community knows what she's actually asking and I hate the sneaky way people get into everyone's business around here. Mrs. Easter asked the question but also turned off comments, making it very suspicious.