Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I expected you to drive a car or an SUV,” she confesses.
“I have a car too, but I prefer my truck.” Reaching for the door, I pull it open. She gives me a spectacular view of her ass as she climbs inside. I wait for her to be settled and her seat belt in place before shutting the door.
“So, I thought we could drive to Harris and eat at Momma Joe’s Pizzeria,” I suggest as I put the truck in Drive and pull out of the lot.
“Oh. I’ve never been there.”
“Harris is only a twenty-minute drive.”
“I’ve been to Harris, but never to Momma Joe’s,” she explains.
“You’ve been missing out,” I tell her. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s my favorite pizza around.”
“I’m excited to try it.” She smiles over at me, and something happens in my chest. It tightens, and the feeling is foreign.
“So you’re off tonight. When do you work again?” I ask. I don’t know much about her, but I want to change that. I hope getting to know her better will ease this infatuation I have with her.
“I’m off tomorrow. I usually work two shifts a week with At Your Service Catering, but they had a party cancellation, so they don’t need me.”
“How do you manage three jobs?”
“The cleaning gig I just fill in from time to time. It’s nothing that’s consistent. The catering job was my first when I moved to Willow River. They took a chance on me, and well, I hate to give them up altogether. That’s also where I met Palmer. I also work five days a week. Wednesday thru Sunday at the Willow Tavern.”
She went over this a little at the photo shoot, but I feel as though I wasn’t giving her my undivided attention. Not when my hands were all over her. “If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” I ask. Surely working at the Willow Tavern isn’t her ultimate job. There is nothing wrong with it if it is, but something tells me it’s not.
“Well, I… um, actually, I have a bachelor’s degree in political science. I’ve just never used it.” She swallows hard. “My father was strict and insisted I start college classes post-secondary while in high school. I didn’t mind it. I preferred it actually. I’d rather stay in and study than have to pretend with my fake friends, and the guy they insisted I date. I graduated early.”
“First, I’m sorry. I hate that you had to deal with fake people, and a guy you didn’t like. I hate even more that it was at the hands of your father. Second, congrats on graduating early. That’s awesome. Why have you never used your degree? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“It wasn’t something that I wanted.” She doesn’t give me any more than that, and I don’t push her. I want to, but something tells me asking for more would just make her clam up.
“Did you always want to be a lawyer?” she asks, her body suddenly stiff.
“Well, to hear my parents tell it, yes.” I laugh. “I was the king of arguing with them and my middle sister, Piper, when we were younger. Not so much with Palmer. She was eight when I left for college.” Just another reminder that this woman is too damn young for me.
“So, you’re ten years older than Palmer?”
“I am.”
She nods. “That makes you what? Thirty-two?” she asks.
“Yep. I’ll be thirty-three in October. You?”
“I’m twenty-two. I’ll be twenty-three in August.”
She just confirmed what I already knew. I’m too damn old for her. There’s a devil sitting on one shoulder telling me that age is just a number, and the angel on the other telling me we can only ever be friends. It’s exhausting the way my mind keeps floating back and forth between the two.
“So? Being a lawyer?” She steers the conversation back to her question.
“When I started college, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I knew that I wanted a degree. I wanted a career where I didn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck. My parents worked their asses off to raise the three of us, and at times money was tight, and I knew I wanted better. I wanted to be able to support a family should my future wife decide she wanted to stay home and raise our kids.”
“You were thinking about a wife and kids in college?” Surprise is evident in her voice.
“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t ready right then, but I knew I wanted a family like my own one day. What about you?”
“I… didn’t grow up that way. My parents were not as lenient with my choices.”
“Meaning they controlled your life?” I ask, reading between the lines.
“Pretty much.” She sighs. “I’ve never really been allowed to think for myself. At least not until I moved to Willow River.”