Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I winced, not knowing what to say to that.
So I went with what was in my heart.
“I love you, Wolf,” I said softly. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”
“I love you, too,” Wolf replied immediately. “Do you mind if I call you back later tonight? How are you feeling?” he asked almost as an afterthought.
“I’m well,” I lied. “Go. Work. Get paid to do something for once.”
He snorted. “Bye. Be good.”
He hung up, and I was left staring at the bathroom’s walls, admiring them.
They’d redone them since the last time I’d been there.
The walls were painted a nice shade of barn red, and the trim was stained dark brown, almost the color of pancake syrup.
The countertop was pretty cool, too.
I’d actually been considering doing the counters at my project house with a similar material.
The cabinet was stained the same as the trim, and the countertop was a light brown granite with darker brown specks and flecks interspersed randomly all over it.
I admired the bathroom so long that someone knocked on the door, letting me know that I needed to stop dilly-dallying and get on with it.
“I’m almost done!” I called.
A woman’s annoyed sigh had me wincing, and I hurried through the bathroom routine, washed my hands, and rushed outside, past the woman who clearly looked like she was pissed that she was made to wait.
Then my eyes caught on the newly renovated main room of the tiny diner.
I paused, my eyes scanning the roof and the corrugated tin they’d put up instead of the ugly white tile shit they’d had there before.
I was so intent on the new renovations as I walked that I didn’t realize there was someone sitting at the table with Dean until I was upon them.
My feet paused as the familiar hair of Alexa came into view, followed by her very revealing white tube top and jeans.
I couldn’t pull off a tube top and jeans, but Alexa could.
Easily.
She had that perfect body that every woman wished she had, and she didn’t even work for it.
She had it by the grace of God while I had to work three hours in the gym every day to even fit into my size fourteen pants.
Lately, I’d been resorting to my fat pants as my usual pants, which wasn’t saying much for me at that moment in time.
“There you are,” Dean said from the inside seat of the booth he was seated in. “Sit down. I already ordered for you.”
I looked from him to Alexa who was sitting in the booth beside him and back to Dean before I shook my head.
Turning to the booth two down from his, I took a seat and motioned Fran over.
Fran smiled at me and bustled up to my table.
“I sure am glad to see your bright and shining face,” she said, taking a seat across from me as she used to a year ago. “Dean ordered your usual. Is that okay?”
I shook my head.
“I’m on a diet,” I informed her.
“On a diet?” Fran’s brows lowered. “Since when? You don’t need to be on a diet. You’re perfect.”
“Since a couple of months ago,” I lied, because in reality, it was a fairly new thing. As in the last five minutes new. “And my thighs don’t agree with your opinion.”
She giggled and picked her pen and pad up.
“What do you want, then?” she asked.
“I want an omelet with peppers, mushrooms, and spinach,” I read off the menu that’d been on the table when I’d sat down.
Fran stood up and patted my shoulder.
“So, I’m assuming you’re wanting water?” she guessed almost as an afterthought.
I nodded, holding my grimace in check.
I hated water.
It was so boring, but apparently that was what people on diets drank when their goal was to look like Alexa.
“I’ll bring it right now, dear,” Fran promised bustling around the long counter that separated the room from the kitchen area.
Just when I pulled out my phone, a warm body slid in next to me, pushing me over.
“Scooch,” Dean said, boxing me in.
I scooched, but only because I was forced to or he’d sit on me.
Alexa, looking incredibly annoyed at the switch in seating arrangements, glared at me as she slid into the booth across from me.
“Did you change your order?” Dean asked as he pulled me into his chest.
I sent Alexa a smug smile as he did, causing her eyes to narrow.
“I did,” I told him. “I don’t do pancakes anymore.”
“Since when?” he asked.
“Since a year ago,” I lied easily.
His body went solid, and he stared at me.
“Is that why you stopped coming here?” he asked.
I shrugged, leaning away from his arm that was pulling me into his body.
He didn’t let me retreat, and I swallowed a growl as I pulled my phone back out and started to check my emails.