Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
While I had questions bubbling at the top of my mind, I was starting to be able to read her very expressive face. She might not answer directly, but the way her eyes opened wide, or her lip quivered when certain subjects came up gave signals as to her thinking. If I studied her face, I could gain details that weren’t verbal. It wasn’t like I wasn’t studying her face anyway.
What her face was telling me most often was that she was expecting the questions. For some reason, that made me want to hold off more. The fact that she was clearly uncomfortable but was expecting me to make her feel worse by interrogating her made me want to leave her alone and let her settle. I wanted to be a help, not a hindrance.
That said, when I heard her puttering around the office, I started questioning my plan. Part of me was tempted to call in at least one of my brothers for support. But I didn’t have specifics, so what exactly would I be calling them to support? Me? My discomfort about having an incredibly attractive woman sleeping in my office? How could they help?
I spent as much time as I could spare puttering around the house, getting ready slowly. I was hoping she would come out of the office and a conversation about her past might organically start. I was even prepared to call Ally and tell her I would be late in case it happened. But it never did, and I found myself staring at my phone’s clock and then at the office door, knowing that I needed to get out of there.
I knocked on the door lightly and waited just a moment to listen, seeing if she suddenly stopped moving or something else to register that she heard me. I realized I had been hearing a clicking sound, like someone typing, and it suddenly stopped. I cleared my throat.
“Hey, so, I’m going to head out,” I said.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the door handle turned, and I stepped back in surprise. The door swung open, and her face appeared just inches from mine. We both doubled back, and I eyed her up and down.
She was dressed for work. The tight, hugging pants accentuated the shape of her hips against the backdrop of the white door. The black collared shirt was stretched by her ample chest, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were standing right there.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “You’re ready for a shift?”
She nodded and smiled. Her determination was worn on her face, and it fascinated me. She was pushing herself to not be afraid, to get through whatever it was that caused her to run away and hide in my house, and to keep working in the meantime. I had no idea where she got this well of prideful moxie, but it was impressive and alluring.
“Did I make us late?” she asked, sudden worry causing her eyebrows to wrinkle up.
I checked the time on my phone again, realizing that suddenly I couldn’t remember what it had said before she opened the door. Everything else in my brain had leaked out of my ears when I saw her face. It could be midnight and I wouldn’t have recognized I had spent the whole day staring at her.
“Not at all,” I said, reading the clock. “Let’s get going. Make sure you close the door or Gandalf will hop on the bed.”
“Right,” she said, closing the door behind her and falling in line behind me. I opened the front door and held it for her as she walked by. The smell of a floral perfume hit me as she passed, and my stomach tightened.
When we arrived at the vineyard, I watched as she scanned the parking lot and then waited for me to enter the kitchen before she did. She was hesitating, worried that someone was going to pop out at her. I hated that she was as nervous as she was, but I hoped that once she got busy, she would calm down.
I shucked off my knife bag onto the table and went into the bathroom to wash up. Once my hands were clean and I had my chef’s coat on, I went back out into the kitchen and peeked through the doors onto the floor of the restaurant. My jaw set and my heart dropped when I saw Jodi at the bar, her apron tied around her waist, peering out the window, watching the cars coming in as the waitstaff began to arrive alongside some of the regulars who always showed up early.
Going to the prep station, I began chopping onions and peppers for service and thinking about what I should do or say. It was such a delicate situation, and it had to be handled carefully. I didn’t want to go out there and accost her—that would only make things weird for her. But I decided that if she made her way back into the kitchen and she was still acting as nervous as she was, then I would say something.