Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“I’m guessing that he didn’t realize you were well over six feet and wouldn’t be super comfortable in it,” she teased. “But it’s adorable watching you get in.”
Pulling out of the parking lot, I asked, “What do you do for a living, Merriam?”
“I work at a candy shop,” she said. “Well, my dad owns it, and I manage it. One day, he wants me to take it over, but meanwhile…”
The way she trailed off made my belly tighten. “What’s wrong with the job?”
“I’m not sure there’ll be a business to take over,” she admitted. “This economy is literally kicking our asses. No one wants to buy candy when they can barely afford groceries. My dad is burying his head in the sand, convinced that we’ll bounce back. But we didn’t even meet sales quotas during our biggest season of the year? I mean, Christmas practically equals candy. It’s usually our highest grossing month. And to be honest, it is. We’re doing better this month than we did last month. But that’s not really saying much.”
I looked over at her, noted the concern on her face, and said, “Do you want to take over the candy business?”
She shrugged. “I went to school for business, sure that I was going to love it. But I kind of hate it. I don’t like the business side of things. I like the making candy part of it. Sales? Not so much. Cleaning up? Definitely not.”
“Sounds like you have some hard decisions to make,” I pointed out. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”
I rolled through a yellow light, then swung an immediate left that would take us to our restaurant.
I was pulling into a surprisingly good spot when she said, “I wanted to be a mom.”
My brows rose. “Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?”
She shrugged. “My dad is of the mind that I need to run this business and put all of my effort into it. He wants me to wait to start a family until I’m older.” She looked at me then. “You’ve literally touched on every touchy subject that I have in a five-minute drive.”
I got out and moved around to her car door.
Opening it for her, I said, “You can have one of my touchy subjects then.”
Her brows rose. “Oh, yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“What is it?” she wondered.
The two of us started walking toward the front doors where Bryson, Eliska, Lance and Gisela were already waiting.
“I don’t know how much longer I want to play hockey,” I offered. “It was my goal to win the Stanley Cup before I retired, but that hasn’t happened yet, and I’m getting weary.”
“You look like you’re healthy,” she observed. “Are you just wanting to leave while you’re on top?”
“I want to leave while I’m still healthy enough to have kids and raise them. I want to make it to all the soccer games, school functions, and parent meetings.”
“You have kids?” she whispered.
“No,” I said. “But when I do, I want to be there for them. I can’t do that if I’m traveling around the States with a brutal hockey schedule. Hell, I can’t even get a date because any woman that I see thinks it’s absolutely nuts that I am gone more than I’m home for hockey.”
“Oh, boy,” Bryson drawled. “Don’t get him started on this.”
“On what?” Lance asked, not hearing my words as we’d walked up.
“He’s going to start talking about Nicola,” Bryson sighed.
“Nicola?” Merriam asked at my side.
I placed my hand on her spine and felt an electric jolt travel from where I touched her all the way up my arm.
“My ex,” I explained.
“His awful ex,” Bryson countered. “Look there. There’s a big table in the back. Wow, first a parking spot, and now a table? It’s like this is kismet!”
I chuckled at his words.
He was right, though.
Usually at this time of day, the parking lot was so full that you would never be able to find a spot, let alone a table inside. The fact that we found both was telling.
“I’m intrigued. Tell me about this ex,” Merriam said as she sat down next to me.
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, wondering whether it was the best idea to even get into this right now.
“Well,” Bryson said as he slid into the booth part of the table. “Let’s see. She moved into his house because her lease was canceled. Then she decided that throwing parties was great, because Mia had all this room and money. Why not? Then she went to hockey games, and all you could see is her making duck lips at every freakin’ turn to post on her influencer account. Even better, she was so anal about what Mia wore or what he did that he couldn’t have a single ounce of fun anymore. It was the best day of my life when we came back a day early from a road trip and found her sleeping with some man on Mia’s couch.”