Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
We’re halfway through our meal before Grace comes back. I sense her right away—which sounds insane, but still true. She’s laughing and talking to some women in the corner. Her laugh is sweet to the ear and calming. This woman does things to me I’ve never experienced before. It’s so surprising that I find myself reluctant to leave. Watching as she walks back over to talk with the man in the kitchen, I decide to try to approach her one last time. I pick up my coffee cup and head over to the counter, without telling my men.
Grace turns around and I hate the guarded look on her face. I give her a smile trying to cajole her into relaxing. I’m pretty sure it has the opposite effect. “Can I get a refill?” I ask.
She wipes her hands against her black-and-white checkered apron and nods. “Sure thing,” she mumbles, reaching over for the coffeepot that’s on the burner of a double stacked unit. I slide my cup closer to her and she pours it in. “Sorry about that. I should have checked in on your table. I—”
“You don’t have to apologize. Squirrely is an idiot. Some days, the boy makes me wonder why I let him be a member.”
Grace surprises me by smiling. “Maybe he’s just living up to his road name. It might change if you give him a better name.”
“I could change it to idiot. That fits better.”
“Maybe try Einstein,” she suggests.
“Now, that’s funny. You know, a lot of clubs do pick road names that are completely opposite from the man. When my dad ran the club, his vice president was a big motherfucker. I’m talking this son of a bitch could block out the sun when he stood in front of you.”
“That’s big.”
I look at her, entranced. I swear she comes close to giggling. I suddenly feel the need to not stop until she freely lets her laughter loose in front of me.
“Yeah.”
“Was he bigger than you?” she asks quietly.
I laugh. “Yeah, babe. I’m not that big really.”
“Maybe you need a new mirror,” she counters.
“Not this again. Do you know one of my men thought I weighed three hundred pounds?”
“Was it Einstein?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “You’re damn cute, Grace. I might be big, but it’s muscle, by the way.”
“Think I had that figured out. Your coffee is getting cold.”
“My name is Ford,” I say, needing to hear my name pass through her sweet lips.
“Is that because you drive a Ford or because you drive a Chevy?”
“You catch on quick, but in this case, you’re wrong. It’s my actual last name.”
“Oh,” she murmurs, sounding surprised. “What’s your first name?”
“Carter, but the only person who truly knows that is my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?”
“Lyla, yeah. She’s beautiful, funny, smart, and the best mother to my granddaughter.”
“Granddaughter? You don’t look old enough to be a grandfather.”
I grin. “She’s a baby. I’m not too old for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Her body jerks as if I’ve slapped her. “I-I wasn’t thinking anything close to that,” she stutters. “I better get back to work.”
I watch as she turns away from me. On instinct, I reach out and grab her arm. “Hey, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“I want to get to know you, Grace.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I ask. “Why would any man want to get to know you? You’re beautiful.”
She gives me a sad smile. “Beauty doesn’t mean anything, and there are a lot more women out there who are prettier. You don’t know me. I could be a horrible person.”
“You’re not, and that’s why I want to get to know you. To see if the rest of you appeals to me, too. We have to get to know one another to see if there’s anything deeper. Isn’t that how it’s always done?”
Fuck, I’m laying it on thick, but I don’t give a damn. I already know I want her. It’s not all to do with her looks, either. There’s just something about her that instantly draws me in. I’ve never felt that before. I want to spend time with her. I also want her in my bed, begging me for more—not that I can say that yet.
“I’ve no idea. I’m off the market. Have been for a while,” she says, and motherfucker, her words inflict pain and anger inside me at the same time.
“You’re married?” The words come out stilted, almost as if I’m fighting them. If she truly belongs to someone else. I might be tempted to kill him.
She sighs. “I’m not married. I have no desire to ever be married again. I do, however, have a man in my life and there’s no room for another one. Now, enjoy the rest of your meal. I need to check on other customers,” she answers, turning and dismissing me.
“Never thought I’d see the day you’d strike out with a woman,” Grunt laughs, coming up behind me.