Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I relaxed. “All right. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He left, and I quickly put away the books and grabbed my coat and purse in the office. I ran down the stairs, spotting his car easily since it was the only one left in the private garage. Sleek and sexy, the black Audi was purring. Jaxson sat behind the wheel, his eyes on his phone as I approached, and I tapped the window before getting in.
He frowned as I buckled up the seat belt. “I didn’t see you come from the elevator.”
“Oh, I took the stairs. After sitting all day, I needed to stretch my legs.”
I felt his sidelong glance, but I didn’t add anything, and luckily, he let it go. “Where to?” he asked lightly.
“Jamison Street.”
“Off St. Clair?”
“Yes.”
“My old stomping grounds,” he mumbled.
“Really?”
“I lived on Coventry.”
“Oh yes. That’s only a couple of streets away.”
We were quiet for a moment, and I enjoyed the warmth of the car. The leather seats were plush, and the music playing low in the background soothing. And the car smelled like Jaxson. Warm, rich, and distinctive. I liked how he smelled.
Then my stomach grumbled. Loudly.
Jaxson glanced over.
“Sorry,” I muttered, embarrassed.
“You didn’t eat dinner, did you?”
“I was busy.”
“I doubt the apple and wedge of cheese you nibbled at lunch helped either.”
I turned my head, gaping. How did he know what I ate for lunch?
Before I could ask, he was turning the corner a few blocks from my apartment.
“Do you know Rocking Ramen?”
“I’ve walked past it.”
“You like soup? Noodles?”
“Yes.”
He pulled up beside the small building. “Good. It was, and still is, one of my favorites.” He shut off the engine, unbuckling his seat belt.
“What are you doing?”
“Feeding you.”
“That isn’t necessary! I’ll eat when I get home.”
“Nope. We’re eating now.”
“Is that wise?”
He looked at me and lifted his eyebrows. “We’re getting a bowl of soup, Grace. I’m not suggesting a romp on the table.”
My cheeks flushed at his words, and a small part of me pouted. I’d bet that a romp on the table would be far more satisfying. I shook my head. “Now I’m Grace?”
“We can’t share a meal and be formal. Besides, you earned it. Now, get out of the car. I’m starving.”
With that, he climbed out and shut the door. I had no choice except to follow.
Chapter 4
Grace
There was no doubt Mr. Richards—or Jaxson, as I was now allowed to call him—knew what he liked and also that he liked to be in charge. When we entered the mostly empty little restaurant, he pointed out a table in the corner, told me to go sit, then went to the counter and ordered. He came to the table carrying two Tsingtao beers and a bottle of water. He set them down, indicating the icy cold bottles. “Wasn’t sure if you liked Tsingtao.”
“I do.”
He pushed a bottle my way and lifted his, waiting until I had done the same. We clinked necks, and he lifted the bottle to his mouth, taking a long swallow. I had to look away. How did he make taking a sip of beer look so sexy?
I took a sip from my bottle, the cold liquid hitting my throat. I hummed in appreciation.
“I ordered a large special soup and some crispy spring rolls.”
“The special?”
He grinned. “It’s awesome. They make their own ramen, and the broth is to die for. Then they add all sorts of vegetables and top it with crispy chicken and pork.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“It is.”
We were quiet, sipping our beer and relaxing. A few moments later, the soup arrived, steaming and fragrant. A plate of spring rolls was set beside it, and smaller bowls placed in front of us.
I inhaled deeply, suddenly starving. Jaxson picked up my bowl, lading in a large portion, adding meat and vegetables. “Eat,” he instructed.
I didn’t argue. The broth was rich and flavorful, and the spring rolls with the spicy dipping sauce tasty and crisp. The chicken on the top crunched with every bite, and I moaned low in my throat at the deliciousness of the simple fare. I opened my eyes to see Jaxson staring at me, his chopsticks frozen in midair.
“What?”
“I take it you’re enjoying it.”
“Yes.”
“Am I going to get a When Harry Met Sally moment?”
For a second, I was confused, then I recalled the moment in the movie when Meg Ryan pretended to have an orgasm in the middle of the restaurant. I began to laugh, and with a wink, Jaxson joined in.
“Not quite that good. Close, but not quite.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I see.”
I changed the subject. “How was your meeting?”
He shrugged, slurping some noodles. He chewed and swallowed, wiping his mouth.
“Boring. Once a month, we have these team-building things. I go because it’s expected.”
“You don’t enjoy them?”
He took a long swallow of his beer and studied me. “Frankly, as a rule, Grace, I’m not much of a people person.”