Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Sitting in his car, he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about her. The one good thing in his life. He loved his family, but this was different.
Gracen was like the angel sitting on the top of the Christmas tree. Untouchable, delicate, and out of his reach.
Yesterday had been a mistake. He should never have asked her to sit with him. But he hadn’t been able to resist. He was just sick of everything in his life being dark.
For a moment, he’d wanted to bask in the sunshine that was Gracen Stall. Her smiles, her blushes, and the adorable way she blurted stuff out without thinking. She seemed extra flustered around him.
He’d briefly worried that she was scared of him. That his size might have intimidated her. But after thinking about it, he’d realized she was flustered around him for an entirely different reason.
And that was so damn tempting.
You can’t have her.
Except touching her had been like eating a slice of her dark chocolate tart. Pure indulgence. Her skin was silky smooth, and he had no doubt that tasting her would be decadent.
And he wouldn’t be able to stop at one taste.
Gracen was an innocent. She wasn’t part of his world. And if she knew what he was . . . well, she’d probably run screaming.
With good reason.
He wasn’t a good person. And she deserved far better. He could easily hurt her without meaning to.
Although he wouldn’t mind putting her over his knee for being so reckless with her safety.
He shook his head.
However, that was an impossibility as well.
What he should do was stay far, far away from her. She’d accused him of being a stalker.
If only she knew.
4
Victor felt antsy as hell.
He’d stayed away from Gracen today and it was killing him. And not just because he didn’t get his sticky bun fix.
It was her.
He wanted to talk to her again. To see her blue eyes spark with laughter. To feel the touch of her skin against his. But he should keep some distance between them. As difficult as that was to do.
“Vic? You with me?” Regent asked from the head of the table where he sat.
Gerald had just set out lunch, but Victor stared down at it without interest. He tapped his phone screen again.
Just take a look. See if she’s all right.
“And then I murdered the lot of them. The cops are probably coming for me as we speak. I’ll be out in fifty years.”
“What?” He glanced up at Regent.
“Just making sure you were listening,” Regent said dryly.
“Sorry,” he muttered. He wasn’t really.
“Gerald wants some time off. I’m not risking hiring someone else, so we’ll have to fend for ourselves.”
He frowned, glancing up from his phone. Great, neither of them could cook. But he also didn’t want to order out. He didn’t trust someone not to sneak something into their food. He foresaw a lot of peanut butter sandwiches in his future.
“Will he be safe leaving?”
“I’ll make sure he is.” Gerald had been with them forever, and he was like family. But that meant someone could use him against them.
Victor nodded and went back to staring down at his phone. He flicked the app on to display the cameras inside the bakery.
“Are you sleeping? You look terrible. Victor?” Regent pressed.
Ice cold rage filtered through his veins.
What. The. Fuck?
He gaped at the camera, certain he must be mistaken. The images were in black and white, but they were clear. He’d made sure to buy the best.
Jumping to his feet, he was dimly aware of his chair crashing back onto the floor and Regent’s questions as he rushed out of the room.
Nothing mattered but getting to her.
Then killing the motherfucking bastard who ever had laid his hands on her.
Sadness filled her like a dark wave, threatening to drag her under.
It was so silly. So, what if he didn’t come in this morning? It didn’t mean anything.
Sure, in the three months he’d been coming in for a sticky bun, he’d missed less than a handful of days. But there could still be a perfectly good reason.
He could be ill.
There could be a family emergency.
He might have been in an accident.
Okay, whoa. Was she really hoping that he was ill or injured? Or that his family was? Had she sunk to a new low?
No, she was just praying that yesterday’s stupid outburst hadn’t sent him running and she’d never see him again.
“Guess you scared him off, Aunty G,” Anita sang, walking out back. There were only twenty minutes left until close and most of their stock was gone. All that was left was some clean up and getting everything set up for Monday morning.
Tomorrow was her one day off and she desperately needed some sleep. Not that she ever managed to sleep in. Her body now seemed to be wired to wake up at four a.m. It sucked.