Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Outside of your favorite customer.” Sean waggled his eyebrows at me as I handed him a plate.
“You always do present quite the challenge.” I faked a stern tone. In reality, he was right that he was incredibly easy to please. He liked whatever food I put in front of him, liked whatever I dreamed up in bed, and liked spending time outside of it too. Could I be enough for him? The thought was as uncomfortable as his compliments, but if there was anyone on earth I could make happy, Sean might be it.
“And you like me.” He served himself some of each of the dishes I’d presented.
I did like him, far too much. “Maybe.”
“I see the sex didn’t improve your mood much.” Sean dropped his gaze to my black boxer briefs. I knew better than to cook totally naked, but Sean’s obvious appreciation made me wish I’d skipped the underwear and T-shirt. “Perhaps we need to try it again?”
“You wish,” I teased as I sat opposite him and helped myself to some food. “Later. Us old guys need recovery time. And fuel.”
“Hey, you’re younger than me!”
“My point stands.” I gave him a firm look, but inside, I was smiling. I liked that Sean seldom acted his age around me. It was nice to be able to provide a break for someone who had taken on a ton of responsibility young. “Eat.”
“Speaking of eating, what do you want to cook with the kids this week?” Sean asked between bites of the chicken satay. His tone was very offhand, like we had this routine now and merely had to sort out logistics. “I was thinking of teaching them some pasta basics like carbonara, but you’ve got me thinking stir fry now or something we could put more of this peanut sauce on.”
“Everyone should know how to make rice.” I stretched, unable to shake the tightness in my back. “And Wren will enjoy chopping practice, but…”
“But what?”
I sighed and set my potato wedge back down on my plate. “I don’t want to give the kids the wrong idea.”
“The idea that you’re a nice guy who’s a great cook and good teacher?” Sean gave me a pointed look. “Or the idea that you and I are dating?”
“Both. They’ve had a lot of loss. I don’t want them thinking I’m sticking around.”
“Admirable, but I think you’re really talking to me. The kids understand dating, and besides, I’m only a family friend, honorary uncle type. You don’t want me getting the notion that we might have a future.”
Sean was right, and I hated that he was right. “It’s not that I don’t want to date you. It’s that I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve got terminally itchy feet.”
“There might be a remedy for those.” Sean grinned like my fears could be solved as simply as a pair of shoe inserts.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Sean rolled his eyes, then squinted. His chair faced one of the front windows, and he stood, crossing the room to peer out the window. “Hey, what’s that sign out front?”
I followed him to the window. All my appetite disappeared in a hurry. “Fuck me running. It’s a for sale sign.”
“Your landlord wants to sell?” Sean shrugged like this wasn’t a sign from the Almighty that it was time for me to pack up. “I guess it’s no surprise, given the history of this street and the value of land and property this close to downtown.”
“Fuck land values.” First, the ever-present threat of the diner selling, now my apartment.
“Take a breath. Everyone knows the real estate market around here is five-alarm fire hot, but even if your landlord sells, there’s no guarantee you’ll have to move. Tenants have rights.”
“Uh-huh.” I wanted to believe him, but my chest was cold and tight, that hollow feeling that had accompanied every move I hadn’t asked for. Sure, I was an adult now, but my ears still rang with the voices of social workers telling me how this next placement would be so much better.
Damn it. This was why I tried so hard not to like any one place too much. Attachment fucking hurt. And I liked this little studio, liked its proximity to Sean, liked Mount Hope. But liking was seldom enough for guys like me.
As if to prove a point, Sean’s phone vibrated along the floor where it had ended up. Somehow, I knew even before he picked it up that he’d be leaving. Likely with good cause, but my shoulders still drooped, hands and feet growing heavy and wooden.
Leaving the window and that fucking sign, I returned to the table and started packaging up the food while Sean talked into his phone.
“I’m sorry,” he said after ending the call. He was already pulling his jeans on. “Eric got called into a shift. Maren, that’s the oldest kid, asked if I’d come help her do dinner for the others. Wren’s bugging her to be allowed to cook, and apparently, I need to play peacemaker.”