Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Suddenly, I didn’t want to use the gym in the building. I didn’t want to be alone. Changing my direction, I headed out the front door and to the gym a few blocks over. It was a nice spring evening, perfect for a walk. A good workout was what I needed to clear my head.
* * *
Two hours later, I wiped my forehead as I slowed down the treadmill. I had done a lot of weights, some cardio, and taken a yoga class. I loved anything that helped calm my mind and keep me strong. It had been what I needed. I talked to some of the trainers and other people working out, enjoying the hum of the machines and music around me. I liked this place and would miss it once I moved, but I hoped to convince the owner to add one out in Port Albany. His philosophy of small and personal worked. His staff was stellar and his equipment top-notch. We had a great home gym in the BAM compound, as we called the cluster of houses where we lived, but at times, such as tonight, I liked being with other people.
I grabbed a quick shower, towel dried my hair, and headed outside, inhaling the bracing cool night air. It was only just past nine, but I decided the craving for tacos had passed. I inhaled again, the scent of coffee and something savory and delicious hitting my nose. A small coffee shop-type throwback restaurant had opened up recently across the street. The sign was lit up and people were inside, but it wasn’t packed.
Deciding a burger and coffee would hit the spot, I headed across the street, the scent of the grilling meat too much to resist.
I stepped in, the aroma intensifying. I headed to a corner booth, taking off my coat and sliding onto the vinyl-covered bench. Glancing around, I had to smile. It was decorated to look old. Formica countertops with round stools lined the wall by the kitchen. An open pass-through let you see the busy cooks at work. The floor was distressed to appear dated. The walls were covered in bright posters, and there was even a jukebox. I liked it.
I plucked a menu from the holder and studied it, suddenly starving.
The sound of a throat clearing and a soft voice interrupted my study of the menu.
“Welcome to Nifty Fifty. Are you ready to order, or do you need a minute?”
I shut the menu, already responding. “Nope. I’m good. I’ll have—”
I looked up and froze.
Dark-brown eyes, soft and gentle as a fawn’s, stared at me. A face I could only describe as adorable was surrounded by hair the color of sand in sunlight. Golds, blonds, and browns were woven into wild, chin-length corkscrew curls that moved as she tilted her head, waiting for me to continue. She had rounded cheeks, a full mouth, and a nose with a perfect line of freckles across the bridge that stood out on her pale skin.
She frowned at my silence. “Did you want to hear the specials?”
I cleared my throat. “No. Double cheeseburger with grilled onions and the works—except lettuce.”
Those expressive eyes widened, and she nodded, the corkscrew curls on her head bouncing.
“I know, right? Hot lettuce is wrong. It’s for salads. Not a garnish.”
I grinned. “Exactly. I’ll have one of those too. Ranch on the side. Onion rings and fries. And a vanilla shake. Ice water.” I pointed to the display of cakes under domes that lined the counter. “Probably a slice of the hummingbird cake after with coffee. Please,” I added.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Is someone joining you?” she asked, a grin playing on her full lips. Her eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Nope.” I slapped my chest. “Growing boy. I need to keep up my strength.”
She blinked, and I was sure she muttered, “God give me strength,” before she turned and hurried away.
I was mesmerized by her full ass. Curvy. The perfect handful. I guessed her to be not much over the five-foot mark. Maybe by a couple of inches. She was cute. Sexy. I liked the freckles.
I shook my head to clear it. Where the hell were these thoughts coming from? I wasn’t looking for a relationship.
Still, my gaze followed her around as she worked. Smiling, laughing with customers. Filling coffee cups, clearing and wiping tables. She walked my way, a large salad and ice water balanced on the tray along with the milkshake. The metal container glistened in the light, and I could hardly wait to taste the cold, creamy concoction. She set everything down in front of me, including a slice of cake, wrapped on the plate.
“There you go, big guy. Burger will be up soon. I snagged you one of the last pieces of cake, and I added a little extra frosting. I figured you for an icing lover.”