Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Michael paused for a moment, like he was weighing my words, trying to see if I was just placating him or if I really meant it.
Then he nodded, smiling at me. “I’m having fun too. Well. In case you couldn’t tell.”
“Oh, no, yeah, I wasn’t sure, what with all the passionate orgasms and stuff.”
Michael grinned at me. “You know, I always appreciated your sense of humor. And your filthy mouth.”
“Mmm, well now you know just how filthy my mouth can get.” I leaned in, brushing our lips together.
Michael kissed me, quick and dirty. “I damn well do,” he growled.
Then he swatted me on the ass and let me pull away. “Drive safe.”
“I will.” I winked at him and got into my car.
As I drove away, I had to force myself to not strangle the wheel with my hands. It was totally okay. We’d play things his way, sure. He needed time, still. I was his first relationship since Virginia, according to Brooke, anyway, who had gossiped to me all about her father’s lack of a love life.
Totally fine. Totally understandable. I had waited for three years, I could be a little more patient. I’d be good, and as time went on he’d fall for me and see that something serious with me was exactly what he needed, exactly what he wanted.
I’d help mend his broken heart, and give him mine, and we’d be together properly.
Chapter Fifteen: Michael
I was up at the ass-crack of dawn that Friday morning, chugging coffee like my damn life depended on it.
Honestly, I felt like my life did depend on it. I wasn’t a morning person but Stevie had texted me to wake the fuck up on time and she was damn lucky she was the only person who could get me up and out this early.
From most people getting a text that said something like wake the fuck up would be construed as an insult or a sign of anger. From Stevie, who said ‘fuck’ in pretty much every text she sent, it was just how she talked.
It was hilarious and endearing.
I finished my coffee, washed the mug, and then hopped into the car to pick Stevie up from her apartment.
“Morning!” she said brightly, all smiles as she opened the driver’s door.
I jerked my thumb at the front passenger seat. “I think you’re on the wrong side of the car,” I pointed out, my tone dry.
“Nuh uh. I’m driving, and you…” Stevie handed me a foil-wrapped package, “…are eating.”
Huh.
I moved over, letting her take the driver’s seat as I unwrapped the package. Normally I liked driving, liked being in charge…and hey, when did I not…but I was too damn sleepy still and I was excited to see what Stevie had made. I remembered the other day when I thought about the sort of things she made for breakfast, and now I had my answer.
She’d made a breakfast bagel, toasted, with bacon and egg and some kind of delicious sauce and ketchup. I ate that damn thing in like three bites. “Goddamn, don’t make me add a breakfast menu to the restaurant.”
Stevie laughed, pulling us out into the street. “I won’t make you, but I’m glad to know you liked the bagel. I used to make those for myself all the time in culinary school. I fry the bacon with cayenne and a hint of maple syrup, gives it this sweet-spicy kick that’s unbeatable.”
“I’ll say.”
It was only a short drive to our destination: a local farmer’s market.
Stevie had told me that she’d walk me through her process of picking out fresh food for the restaurant so that I could understand where it all came from and how to do it myself. Basically explaining her entire process to me.
I thought that was a smart idea, as her boss and basically, at this point, her business partner, it was only smart that I know what was going on in my own kitchen. I wished that I’d done that more with Theo instead of trusting him so blindly. I’d had a big hand in helping him at first, as I’d guided him and taught him, but then as he’d grown independent I’d just taken a step back. I hadn’t asked questions or looked into anything, and then when Theo had left, that philosophy had screwed me over big time.
“It’s important that you know where your food is coming from,” Stevie said as we parked and got out. “You’re the owner so you’re responsible for it. Even if maybe you’re not the one who goes out and picks the food every time.”
The farmer’s market was a long winding snake of bright yellow stalls, filled with produce, jewelry, handmade soaps, and other small family business products. “I started coming here when I was in culinary school,” Stevie explained. “I’d get all the ingredients that I needed for food for myself that week so it was always fresh and I knew my meals were planned. Helped me save money on eating out, too.”