Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
"I can always eat," I say, hearing the damned inflection in my voice.
Her cheeks heat, the pink on them becoming one of my favorite things as she drops her eyes.
I take a step back so she can enter the small apartment, letting my eyes drop to her delectable ass as she enters.
"Is it going to be frou-frou food?" I ask as I follow her to the small kitchen table.
"What exactly is frou-frou food?" she asks as she begins pulling items from the reusable bag.
"Not that," I say, pointing to the container of delicious-looking chicken salad.
She chuckles.
"That is frou-frou," I say, pointing to the paper, bakery bag marked 7 GRAIN CRACKERS.
"I grabbed these too," she says, pulling a box of crackers from the bag made by a company I recognize. "It's loaded with all sorts of preservatives though."
"I'm old," I remind her. "I'll take all the help I can get."
She laughs again, and it makes my brain work overtime in an effort to think of ways to make it keep happening.
"Help yourself to any…" she begins but pauses long enough to snatch up a tiny bag of dark chocolate-covered almonds. "Any of that."
"Not too keen on sharing the chocolate?"
She looks down at the bag in her hands as if she feels guilty for being selfish.
I see the second she makes her decision, and I wonder how freeing it is for her.
"I bought these for myself."
I give her a quick smile, not willing to make her second-guess that decision by pushing her to see how long it would take to convince her to share with me. I imagine she has had a lot of selfish people in her life, including her sister, who would do it just to watch her cave.
I'd never take something so simple from someone just to lessen their joy and fuck any asshole that would.
"This looks delicious," I say, popping the top off the chicken salad before opening the box of preservative-riddled crackers.
"What are you doing?" she asks, a look of pure disgust on her face when I dip the crackers in the chicken salad. "Don't you have dishes?"
My brows furrow for a second when I pop the food in my mouth, but it doesn't last long. It's better than I ever imagined.
"This has pecans in it," I say, with a mouthful while pointing to my mouth. "It's delicious."
"Do you plan on sharing? We need bowls or something."
I know she's judging me. I know she can't fathom eating food from the same bowl as someone else, but it's not like I plan on double-dipping or anything. I'm not a sociopath.
Instead of turning and grabbing a bowl from the cabinet behind me, I open her bougie bag of crackers, dip it into the container of chicken salad and scoop up a big glob of the stuff.
When she opens her mouth to question me again, I slide it into her mouth. The tip of my finger brushing her lower lip probably shouldn't cause such a visceral reaction from me, but it's the way her eyes track the digit to my mouth as I lick off the food left behind that makes me want a world of things I have no business even considering where she's concerned.
"Are you going to freak out when I suggest we eat in the living room so I can keep working?"
Her eyes drop back to the little kitchenette table before turning toward the living room area.
"I think I could survive that," she says as she begins to gather some of the food items.
I follow behind her, grabbing what she can't carry and placing them on the coffee table.
"I'll concede to dipping the crackers in the chicken salad, but I won't ever agree to eating cake with my fingers."
Instead of asking me to get silverware, she brushes past me, the scent of her skin leaving a trail as she goes into the kitchen to find some. As if she's been here before, she opens the correct drawer on the first try and pulls out two forks.
I drop my ass to the couch, grabbing another cracker and scooping up more of the chicken salad.
"I'm not trying to sound like I'm judging you, but those crackers really aren't good for you."
"I'll be fine," I assure her, watching her wince as she takes a seat beside me. "Are you okay?"
She huffs as she grabs one of her crackers and dips it into the bowl of chicken salad.
"I'll be okay but I slept wrong last night and my back has a catch in it. Drinking like I did last night isn't the same as it used to be. The recovery time required just isn't worth it these days."
I huff a laugh of understanding. "I know I'm at least twenty years older than you. I don't know how I managed to even stand this morning. It shouldn't bother someone as young as you though."