Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“I will never intentionally hurt that woman, and you know it. For fuck’s sake, Holden, I know what you all went through. I’m not dicking around with her for shits and giggles.”
He swallows, watching me, and then nods. “As long as we understand each other.”
“We do.”
At 6:57, I walk across the street, with flowers in hand. I ring the bell and Dani answers, and her whole face fucking lights up when she sees the yellow roses in my hand.
“For you.”
She takes them and buries her nose in them in that way that women do that I find so fucking adorable.
“Thanks.”
“You’re gorgeous, Dani.” It’s true. She’s in a red-and-white dress that buttons down the entire front and falls just above her knees.
When my eyes find her face again, she’s looking at my arms, and it makes me feel smug. I’ve caught her looking at my arms and shoulders before. I work out a lot—I need to be strong for my job—and I’m glad that she likes what she sees.
“I’m just going to set these in some water.”
I follow her inside and see that Pickles is curled up on the couch, napping.
“How’s it going with the cat?”
I can hear the water running in the kitchen, and then Dani returns, carrying a vase with the flowers in it.
“She’s sweet,” Dani says, smiling softly at the kitten. “She sleeps with me, and she always greets me at the door when I come home from work.”
“So, you’re glad you kept her?”
“Yeah, I am. Okay, I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Let’s do it.” I hold my hand out, and without hesitating, she slides her palm against my own, and I link our fingers, guiding her across the street to my truck.
The drive to Old Town Pizza is quick, and the owner, Heather, winks at me when we walk inside. I called ahead and asked if she could reserve us a table on her rooftop, since it always fills up quickly, especially on a Friday night.
“Well, hello, you two. I have your table ready. Follow me.”
Dani frowns up at me, but I just shrug, and we follow Heather up a set of stairs to the open-air rooftop. There’s a bar up here and umbrellas over the tables, but we have an unobstructed view of the ski mountain and most of downtown.
“It’s pretty up here,” Dani says once we’re seated.
“I think so, too.”
She looks my way and then chuckles when she finds me just staring at her. “You’re just trying to be charming.”
“Me? No way. What do you like on your pizza, sweetheart?”
“Oh, I’ll eat anything.” She pushes the menu away and looks back at the mountain, so I reach over and take her hand in mine, getting her attention.
“But what do you like? If you’re home alone and you order pizza, what do you get?”
“We can get whatever you want. Really, I like anything.”
“That’s not what I asked you.” I narrow my eyes and lean forward. “Dani, I’m trying to get to know you. I’m learning you. I sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, want to know how you order your freaking pizza.”
She presses her lips together in a line and then says, “I like pepperoni with pickled jalapeños, pineapple, and mushrooms. It’s weird. So when I eat pizza with anyone else, we just get something normal, like pepperoni or Hawaiian.”
The waitress arrives, setting down the drinks we ordered when we got here, and says, “Are you ready to order?”
“Yeah,” I begin, watching Dani. “We’ll take a large pepperoni with pickled jalapenos, pineapple, and mushrooms.”
Dani’s eyes have widened and her jaw drops in surprise. Jesus, has no one ever ordered her pizza the way she likes it?
“Do you want hand-tossed or deep-dish?” Sandy, the waitress, asks.
I lift an eyebrow at Dani.
“Hand-tossed,” she says, and I nod at Sandy.
“What else?” Sandy asks.
“I think we need more carbs,” I add, “so let’s do some cheesy breadsticks.”
“With ranch,” Dani chimes in, earning a smile from me.
Good girl, I mouth to her, and her cheeks redden.
Fuck, I want to see her blush everywhere.
When we’re alone again, Dani says in a small voice, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It sounds delicious.”
She snorts out a laugh, but when I don’t laugh with her, she looks at me like I’m not telling the truth, and I don’t like that.
“There’s nothing on that pizza that doesn’t sound good to me.”
“Okay,” she replies, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
That’s fine. I’ll prove it to her.
“How long have you lived in your house?” she asks me, changing the conversation.
“About three years. I bought it because I liked the backyard and that it backs up to the woods, so it’s a little more private.”
“You do have a good backyard,” she says with a nod. “Holden hated that I moved into my place. Hated it.”
“Why?” I sip my iced tea, watching her.