Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“What’s wrong, Shelbers?” Grandma Billie asks, her voice making me jump as it pulls me from my thoughts of King and how sexy the man is. He’s tempting and charming in that I’ll melt your panties clean off way. Only I’ve played with fire and been burned. I’m not looking to repeat past mistakes. No matter how good of a game King talks.
I’m so lost in thought that I have no idea how I ended up leaning against the counter. I’m a million miles away, trapped in thoughts of the good-looking biker that just left. Wondering if he kisses as good as I imagine he does. The way he was licking his lip while starting at me was full of promise. The way he looked at me said he wanted me. I have a vision of him making good on his word to fuck me over a table. Warmth pools in my lower belly at the thought even though I should know better than to go there.
I’m an idiot.
“Shelbers,” she prompts, reminding me I haven’t given an answer to her question.
“Nothing just got a lot on my mind lately,” I respond—which is exactly a lie. It’s what I’m thinking about that’s the issue. Heat flashes across the back of my neck. Embarrassment coats my cheeks like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I grab a cleaning rag and begin wiping down the counter that I know I’ve already cleaned. Still, it gives me something to do and anyone that knows my grandmother can tell you that being idle handed around her is a mortal sin.
“If you have time to lean, you have time to clean.”
That’s her motto. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard that in my lifetime.
“That idiot isn’t bothering you again, is he?” Grandma Billie asks, pinning me with an expression that makes her eyes narrow. Normally someone would wither under the weight of her stare, but I just ignore it and keep cleaning as I shake my head.
My grandmother’s name is Billie Mae. She hates anyone calling her Mae or Billie Mae. The family learned really quick not to call her that unless you wanted hit with her rolling pin. Her temper is hard to match.
“No. I haven’t heard from him or seen him for a few weeks now,” I answer, grimacing at the mere thought of my ex. “Maybe he finally gave up.”
The idea that I can start forgetting about Mason is all too sweet. King pops into my head. He could be a beautiful distraction. But realistically whatever chemistry is between us would cause the crap show of my life to explode in my face. I sure don’t need that. I’ve had my fair share of garbage.
“I doubt we are that lucky,” my grandmother warns. “Besides, I’ve seen him in here for breakfast a few times this week.”
I wince as my stomach starts to turn over. I don’t even want to contemplate having to see Mason again. I’m thankful I didn’t help at the diner on those days. I don’t need any more of his drama in my life. Simply having the awful memories of being with him is enough for me.
Too much actually.
I wish I could pretend that I never wasted a year of my life with him. I don’t even like talking about him. It’s like saying his name or even thinking about him makes bad juju rise in the air, summoning him to come and mess with my life some more.
“I was stupid to ever talk to that man.” I half expect to get an earful, but my grandmother surprises me.
“No, you were just blinded by your hormones since Mad Dog is nice on the eyes. It’s when he opens his mouth the problems start,” she mutters, wrinkling her nose like she smelled something bad.
“That’s not his name.” I laugh. I can only imagine the look on his face if he heard her call him that.
“I know, but I think Mad Dog suits him better.”
We both break out in laughter. The man can be like a dog with a bone that’s for sure. The bell above the door rings as more customers come in. Lunch rush is over, but there’s never a lack of patrons in here. My grandmother has never hurt for business.
“I better get back to work,” I tell her, grabbing the small menus that show our daily specials. Everything else is on the table. I kiss my grandmother’s cheek as I head over to the new customers.
Just about everyone that comes in already knows where they are going to sit and what they are going to order. I think that’s why I love this place so much. It’s a part of this town and the people’s lives. William’s Diner means almost as much to everyone in this town as it does to my grandmother. It’s considered a local treasure. Before I can take a step, she’s stepping in front of me.