Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Speaking of, would you like something to drink?”
“That would be nice.”
“I could make a hot toddy, or a simple glass of whiskey should do the trick.”
Smiling, I said, “Whiskey sounds good. I’ve never had it before.”
Nate paused and glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“Nope,” I said as I popped my P while sliding onto the bar stool. There were two.
He laughed softly, and I ignored the slight tremor that went through my body at the sound.
He isn’t interested in you like that, Haven.
When he turned around and handed me the whiskey, I was again struck by how handsome Nate Shaw was. His brown hair looked like he had run his hand through it multiple times, and those eyes of his. Were they gray or silver? Maybe the lightest of blue. I just couldn’t tell. All I knew was I had never seen eyes that color before.
“Thank you,” I said as I took the whiskey glass and brought it to my nose. It was sweet and fragrant and had what I could only describe as a grassy or hay-like scent. I took a drink and started to cough.
“Holy shit!” I hit my chest. “That hit the back of my throat, and it burns!”
Nate laughed. “I’m not a fan of whiskey at all.”
“Why did you give it to me then?” I asked.
“You wanted something to warm you up.”
“A spiked pumpkin latte would have been better.”
Nate looked around and held up his hands. “I’m all out of pumpkin spice. Sorry.”
“Can I have a beer instead?”
He winked, and my heart felt like it somersaulted in my chest. I remembered the last time he winked at me like that. Senior year of high school in his parents’ barn where we almost…almost slept together until he stopped it. I knew why he stopped. He knew what my father had almost done to me and had stopped him when I was sixteen. Had he not shown up, he would have for sure raped me. I knew in the back of his mind I was—I am—damaged goods, and no man wanted that. I couldn’t honestly blame him, but sometimes, the way he looked at me…was confusing.
I pushed the memory away. It did little good to think about it. Besides, I had heard that Nate had a revolving door of women coming and going.
“Bottle or draft?”
“I’ll give the draft a try.”
Nate pulled out two glass mugs from a little refrigerator and filled them with the frothy beer. He handed one to me, and we held up the mugs and clinked.
“Here is to a good draft beer.”
I chuckled and took a sip. Turning in my seat, I looked over the room once again. “Nate, this is beautiful. I can’t even imagine your view with these windows.”
“It looks out toward the ranch, and I must say, it’s a killer view. So, I, um, heard through the grapevine that you were hoping to buy a house.”
Turning back to face him, I tried to hide the sadness on my face. “I was thinking about it, but I’ve soaked all my savings into this dog park, including the money I had saved up for a down payment on the house. I had an inheritance from my grandmother that was going to help with getting the dog park going, but life happened. It’s okay, though; my apartment is fine.”
“By the way, how is it you don’t have any dogs of your own, Haven? As much as you love them.”
“I can’t have one while I’m in an apartment. I mean, I guess I could. I would just feel so bad keeping it locked up in a small, one-bedroom apartment. I get my fair share of love from dogs, though, with my job.”
“How many can you fit on that bus?”
Why was he being so nice to me? He never seemed the least bit interested in what I did. He hadn’t said anything negative or cracked a bad joke or anything. I was honestly surprised he had even stopped to help me. No, wait, was that fair of me? No, it wasn’t, and I instantly felt guilty for thinking it.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Nate asked with a raised brow.
I shrugged one shoulder, took a sip of the beer, and then said, “I’m just confused about why you’re being so nice to me, even asking about my job.”
A look of hurt crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. “What do you mean?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “You’re not cracking any jokes about my job or poking fun at me. That’s not like you.”
“You act as if I’m mean to you constantly.”
“You are, Nate. You normally do whatever you can to avoid me.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with my directness. “I’m not trying to be mean to you, Haven.”