Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Or you could just thank me for making this the best day of the year in terms of sales.” I smile cheekily as Gaston laughs while I walk into the back room to take a pan of cupcakes out of the oven and grab a tray of cookies. The display case is almost empty. Calvin was right about Max finding out my name. What I didn’t know she would do was put my name, along with where I work, in the article, claiming I was some kind of hero for rescuing Amy.
“What are you planning on doing next?” Chrissie asks as I come back in, carrying the tray.
“I don’t plan; I’m more of a ‘live in the moment’ kind of girl,” I tell her as I bend down to place a fresh tray of cookies in the display case.
“Is that so?”
As I hear Calvin ask that question, my head flies up, and I’m sure I look like a deer caught in headlights. I didn’t hear the door chime when I was in the back, and Chrissie didn’t even give me a heads-up that he was here.
“I’m going to help Gus take out some of these flowers. We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Chrissie says, and then the door chimes, announcing she and Gaston have left, but I don’t pull my eyes off Calvin’s. I can’t.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, walking toward the counter. He’s dressed almost exactly like he was the first time we met, in dark jeans and a button-down shirt that’s form fitting and accentuates his powerful build. His appearance, along with the look in his eyes, causes my heart to pick up speed as he gets closer.
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you can’t decide if you want to run to me or away from me.”
I shift on the balls of my feet, wishing I were better at keeping my emotions locked away. “Why are you here?” I ask instead of answering his question.
“I wanted to come check on you. I tried to call you last night, but you didn’t answer, so I called Edie. She said you fell asleep in her guest room. And you haven’t answered my calls today or responded to my text.”
Edie told me when I woke up this morning that he’d called her, and every time I saw his number on my phone today, I tried to talk myself into answering or calling him back. I just couldn’t force myself to do it, even though I really wanted to.
“Thank you for checking up on me. As you can see, I really am okay, so you don’t need to worry about me,” I say, watching as his eyes flash with frustration and his jaw tics.
“Christ, you’re good.”
“What?” I say with a frown, confused by that statement.
He comes a step closer and leans into the counter with both hands. “I’ve never met a woman quicker than you are at putting up walls. You’re good, Anna. So good I bet no one ever gets in.”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised I’m calling you out on whatever game it is you’re playing, since one minute you’re sweet and vulnerable, and the next you’re sour and on guard.”
“I’m not playing a game.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“No? Then what are you doing? Why are you pushing me away?”
“I’m not pushing you away.” I shake my head like his statement is completely ridiculous . . . but it’s not. He’s right; I have been pushing him away, because it’s easier than acknowledging I like him, especially when I don’t know if I’m ready to like anyone.
“Then what are you doing, Anna?”
“I’m not doing anything, Calvin.”
“Lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then explain to me why you’re so set on pushing me away.”
“I don’t know.” I toss my hands in the air, getting frustrated.
“You don’t know,” he repeats.
“When it comes to you, Calvin, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
“And that scares you.” It’s a statement, not a question, and my back straightens.
“Don’t be absurd. I’m not scared,” I lie.
“Then what do you call it?” he asks, capturing my hand and startling me with his firm grip. “If you’re not scared of me, then what is it?” He coaxes me closer, causing my breath to turn choppy.
“Nothing,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to his lips, which are close—so close I know all I’d have to do to feel them against mine is lean in an inch.
“Do you want to kiss me, Anna?”
My stomach dips, and the word yes rests on the tip of my tongue as he runs his nose across mine, making my stomach dip and my toes curl.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispers.
Oh God, I want that too. I have never wanted to kiss someone more than I want to kiss him.