Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Trevor shrugged. “It looked like she was enjoying herself in Meadowbrook last night at the state fair. And it also seemed like she had fun the other night when she played cards with us.”
“The woman would rather freeze her ass off than wear a coat that doesn’t match her outfit.”
My brother rubbed his chin. “I seem to remember she was wearing your ugly flannel last night at the fair. You want to know what I think?”
“Definitely not.”
“I’m glad you asked. I think you’re making excuses not to see where things can go with this woman because you’re afraid to get hurt again.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I see the same woman as you, bro. She’s a designer-wearing fashionista who probably spends more money on her hair and nails than we do on truck payments. There’s no arguing that point. But if you keep looking, you’ll also see a woman who didn’t hesitate to play carnival games, got her coiffed hair all messed up going on rides, and enjoys a corn dog as much as she does her fancy drinks. Stop trying to put her in a box. She can be more than one thing, even if you can’t.”
I thought about it. Maybe my idiot brother was right for a change. February did seem to have a good time at the fair and playing cards. In fact, she’d spent most of the time we’d been together smiling. Maybe I wasn’t giving her enough credit. I rubbed my beard, thinking out loud. “You think she would stay here part time if I went there part time?”
“I don’t know, but I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Why don’t you try slowing down and just taking it step by step?”
He had no idea how bad I was dying for step one—a damn kiss. I had barely slept last night after dropping February off. My body physically ached for the woman. Though, if I was going to take the first step, maybe I could sneak in two steps at once and cop a feel of those luscious tits that had been haunting me. I’d spent hours staring at the photo she’d sent me. Sometimes doing more than just staring, too.
Trevor knocked back the last of his beer and pushed it to my side of the bar.
“You want another?” I asked.
“Nah. I have a hot date. I met a woman at the fair last night.”
“What’s this one’s name?”
Trevor grinned. “No fucking clue. She told me, but I forgot. I’m going to have to tell her I need to use the bathroom when I pick her up and hope there’s some mail lying around on the counter.”
I shook my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
A few minutes later, I was refilling beers for a few of my regulars when a guy walked in. He had on a three-piece plaid suit with pants so short his bare ankles were showing. The dude looked as out of place as February had the first night she’d wandered in here. He sauntered up to the bar, and I would’ve bet my truck the fucker was going to order wine or ask to use the bathroom.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a cabernet. A two thousand nine or earlier from the Napa Valley, if you have it.”
I frowned. “Got Sutter Home. The bottle’s got a few inches of dust on it, if that’s old enough for you.”
He smiled. “How about a vodka and seltzer then?”
“I can do that.”
He looked around. “Where’s the restroom?”
Two for two. I inwardly smirked and pointed. “That way.”
Plaid Suit came back a few minutes later, and I hit him with a three buck, I-wear-three-piece-suits surcharge and went back to the other end of the bar to talk to Hank, who was here as a regular this evening, rather than the bartender he was two nights a week.
He lifted his chin in the direction of the plaid suit. “New York or California?”
I shook my head. “Didn’t ask.”
“I got twenty he’s from the Big Apple.”
I looked over. The guy was probably early thirties and had hair he spent too much time on, but he wasn’t bad looking. Sort of reminded me of a Ken doll. It irked me that I thought he’d look the part standing next to someone like Feb. “Not taking that bet,” I grumbled. “He’s definitely from New York.”
Hank shrugged. We spent the next fifteen minutes debating whether or not it made sense for me to put solar panels on the house I was building for myself. Then Plaid Suit lifted his arm like I was a damn taxicab.
Hank caught it too and smirked. “Probably jerks off looking in the mirror.”
I chuckled but went down to see what the guy wanted.
“You want a refill?”
“Please.”
I poured two fingers of vodka into a glass and grabbed the seltzer gun.