Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Your tip. For excellent work.” Before I could protest, he smiled. “Now I’ll take you to lunch.”
“Um, no. I have another client coming in.”
He shook his head. “According to the screen behind you, you’re free for another hour. Lunch, Cherry G. I’m going to feed you.”
“No, I, ah, I have other things I have to do.”
The salon owner came over, looking between us. “Problem?” she asked.
Dom smiled at her. Charming. Friendly. “I want to take my girl here to lunch, but she seems to think she can’t leave.”
His girl? I opened my mouth to protest, but Connie cut me off, looking at me as if I were crazy. “Go to lunch with your man, Cherry. The girls can finish the towels.” She held out her hand. “I’m Connie.”
Dom smiled again, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it. “Thanks, Connie. Pleasure to meet you. I’ll have her back in time for her next client. I hardly get to see her, so any time I can grab is awesome.”
Connie blushed. Actually blushed. “Oh, take your time. Mrs. Jenkins likes a cup of coffee before her appointment. I’ll chat with her, and Janey can wash her hair. That’ll give you two lovebirds some extra time.” She nudged me. “You can fill me in later.” She winked and walked away before I could inform her I wasn’t his girl or a lovebird. I turned to Dom, glaring.
He grinned. “Come on, Cherry G.” He wiped his bottom lip. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll get my purse,” I muttered through tight lips as I tugged my apron over my head.
“No need. Lunch is on me.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
I felt every eye on me. Inquisitiveness was rife in the air, and I knew I’d be bombarded with questions when I got back.
“Fine.”
And despite being annoyed with him, I couldn’t dismiss the fact that my hand felt right wrapped up in his.
Which only made me angrier.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dom
She was pissed off. The color in her cheeks was high, and her shoulders were set back. But she let me take her hand and lead her across the street to the small restaurant I had noticed. We sat at a booth facing the street. When she had pulled off her apron, her hair had come loose from the ponytail it had been in and now hung in thick waves down her back. The sun caught the dark red, turning it rust and gold. I wanted to wrap it around my hand as I kissed her. Feel it splayed across my chest as she slept on me after I fucked her.
I shook my head to clear it. After a quick perusal of the menu, I ordered a roast beef sandwich and onion rings. Cherry got ham and cheese with a side of coleslaw. We both ordered coffee and water.
I told her about running into Hannah that morning, and we chatted about her and Chase and their new living arrangements. She asked about where I had lived in Toronto. I queried her about the salon. She waited until the food had arrived and we had eaten most of it before she brought up the elephant at the table with us.
“I am not your girl, Mr. Salvatore. I am too old to be anyone’s girl.”
I grinned at her indignant tone. “You prefer to be called my woman?”
“I prefer nothing of the sort. We barely know each other.”
“I want to change that.”
She looked truly flummoxed. “Why?”
I wiped my mouth and took a sip of coffee, deciding to be blunt. “You cannot deny the attraction between us, Cherry G.”
“Infatuation. It will pass.”
“I don’t think so. I want to explore it with you.”
“I’m not looking for a man.”
“I wasn’t looking for anyone either. But I found you.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She finished her sandwich, pushing her plate away.
“You are very high-handed.”
“Determined.”
“Bold.”
“Confident,” I countered.
“Too old to be a playboy.”
I threw my head back in laughter. “On that, we agree. I’m not a playboy. The last woman I dated was over a year ago, and she broke it off, not me. She traded me in for a much younger, richer model.”
“You live in Lomand.”
“I own a car. And a motorcycle. I’m free to come and go anytime. As are you.”
“It would be complicated.”
“Some of the best things in life are.”
She shook her head. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
I studied her. “I know you lost your husband early in life, but something else happened, didn’t it?”
She swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“Who hurt you?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I’m not them. I have no desire to hurt you. I want to know you.”
“I don’t know if I can—I mean, if I want to. Have a relationship, I mean,” she repeated, as if making sure I understood her.
I met her eyes. “So you want to just fuck?”