Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
There were so many questions I wanted to ask but didn’t really want one of his judging answers.
With nothing else to do, I parked myself in front of the hearth with my legs bent and tucked close to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
I thought about my grandmother and reached for my purse, which I’d taken out of my bag and set next to me. I grabbed my phone, only to realize when the screen lit up I had no signal.
“Yeah,” a deep voice rumbled.
I glanced over my shoulder to see the ruggedly good-looking man lording over me.
“About that.” He paused as if for dramatic effect. “Service is spotty.”
I couldn’t help the snarky “Of course, it is,” that left my mouth before I could stop it, throwing his words back at him.
“Sorry, Your Highness. We aren’t in Kansas anymore.”
Was he seriously making a Wizard of Oz reference? My grandmother loved that movie with Judy Garland. But I was more surprised a guy like him would even know the film or even the book.
“We didn’t exactly come from Kansas,” I snarkily replied. “Though Kansas would be quite the improvement.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked and I had to turn around to fight a grin. One point for me in this battle of wills.
“You’re free to leave and find better accommodations,” he said.
“Although you think I am, I’m not stupid. It’s getting dark and I would have no idea where to go. But trust me, if I did, I wouldn’t be here.”
Though I didn’t know why, the only thing I’d had against him was his apparent hatred of me. With nowhere to go, I marched closer to the fire to warm my hands. When I turned back to see him, his back was to me where he worked in the kitchen. Suddenly, a delicious smell filled the air as the sizzling sound of grilling meat added to it.
Silently, I cursed my mom for sending me to boarding school with those rich girls. Cooking was not a class that had been offered. In the back of my head, his judgment of my ineptness chipped away at the armor that hid my insecurities.
The hole that formed allowed that hurt of Cal’s rejection of me to sting the back of my eyes with unshed tears. I’d been so happy when he asked me out and treated me like a lady, unlike all the jealous women’s claims that had come before me. I thought a few months meant maybe he wanted more. He had, just not with me. I’d made so many mistakes when trying to cling onto the remnants of what we had. I’d embarrassed myself in front of him, our coworkers, and the woman he’d fallen in love with.
I wiped at nonexistent tears as my grip on the phone tightened as I wished I could talk to my grandmother. She had a way of making me feel worthy of anything, including her love. She told me that Cal was a fool for not seeing what a catch I was. She’d made me believe it.
With that, I got angry with myself. I was done mourning the loss of a man that was never mine.
“Dinner is served,” he announced.
I exhaled and got to my feet, prepared to be gracious to get through the night. Hopefully in the morning, the weather would be clear, and I could get to New York and my gran. I would be free of this man and all the reminders he brought with him.
“Looks good,” I said with a smile plastered to my face like I was a mad clown.
At least that was how it felt.
“Tastes good too,” he said while shoving a cut of meat into his mouth.
Get ahold of yourself, Jolie, I told myself. He wasn’t the last man on earth as he’d claimed, thank goodness. He was gorgeous, but an asshole and I had to remember that.
My knife slid like butter through the expensive cut of meat. Better yet, it tasted like heaven. If my eyes were closed, I could imagine that I was in a fancy restaurant.
“Better than sex?” he asked, shattering my fantasy.
I opened my eyes to glare at the man.
He shrugged. “Your eyes were closed, and you were moaning.”
Talk about jaw-opening words, I thought as mine hung open. Had I really been moaning?
“I wasn’t moaning,” I said, to wipe the smirk off his face.
“You were. Probably just means you haven’t had sex with the right man. Not that I don’t make a mean steak.”
I closed my eyes again, trying to gather strength. The gall of this man was testing the bounds of my good manners. Gran would totally approve of me slapping him.
“You have no idea about my sex life, and will never know.”
His dark chuckle caused a visceral reaction. I got to my feet. “Thank you for a lovely dinner, but I’m not very hungry,” I said, almost convincing myself of the lie as my stomach protested.