Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
So, yeah, I was mad at him on my own behalf, but I was also mad at him on his.
Zara was happy to chill in her room and try out the paint set her Uncle Roan had gifted her, which was good because I was in a bad mood.
By the time Sunday morning came around, I managed to leave my irritation at the door and focus on getting ready for my date. I selected a black dress with matching tights and a pale grey cardigan. I wasn’t sure if it was date appropriate, but it was the sort of thing I wore on the one day a month I had to go into the office, so I assumed it was suitable enough.
When I knocked on Zara’s grandparents’ front door, my heart thudded, hoping Jace wasn’t the one to answer. I planned on pretending our conversation on Friday night never happened. He was getting this one pass from me, but I wouldn’t be so understanding if it happened again.
“Good morning, my beautiful ladies,” Jace said as he opened the door and pulled our daughter into a hug. His eyes came to rest on mine as he scooped Zara up into his arms then swung her around.
“Your granddad’s making pancakes,” he said as he lowered her back down. “Go tell him you want chocolate chips.”
Zara bobbed her head and ran inside the house yelling, “Granddad! I want chocolate chips on my pancakes.”
“Tell Jace to do his own dirty work,” Jay shouted back.
“You look pretty,” Jace said then, and I fought the urge to tell him he wasn’t allowed to say stuff like that to me anymore. His eyes lowered to the black heels I wore, and my attention went once again to the glint of his lip piercing. It took a concerted effort to shove away the memory of the cool metal against my mouth when he kissed me.
“Those shoes are very …” His sultry gaze flashed back up as a smirk shaped his lips, “Becoming.”
“I don’t need your opinion on my outfit,” I replied, my tone sharp. “I’ll be back around one.”
“Does meeting for coffee take three hours these days?” he shot back, and I fought the urge to start a row. It was clear he disliked the idea of me going on a date, but what did he want me to do? Sit around the rest of my life pining for what might’ve been?
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of humouring the question. Instead, I stated flatly, “Goodbye, Jace,” before turning on my three inch heels and walking away.
The café where I was to meet with Rufus was only a short taxi ride from Jay and Matilda’s house. I’d seen a couple pictures of him, so I knew he had dark hair, and his profile stated he was five feet ten inches. Scanning the space, I didn’t see him anywhere, so I ordered a latte and then took a seat to wait. I was still a few minutes early. As I waited, my phone vibrated in my bag, and I pulled it out to check. There was a text message from Jace, and my stomach did a flip just seeing his name.
Why did I want him so much more than the potential for something better with Rufus? Or if not him, someone else I might meet along my dating journey? I was sick; that was it. There was something wrong with me. Jace Fields had infected my heart with an incurable disease, one that made me want only him, no matter how much I tried to convince myself someone new was what I needed.
Opening the text, all it said was YUM! and attached was a picture of Jace and Zara as they held up their forks, ready to dig into a giant stack of chocolate chip pancakes. I couldn’t help the grin that pulled at my lips when a voice asked, “Shannon?”
Closing out the text and shoving my phone back in my bag, I lifted my head and found Rufus standing before me. His wavy brown hair was adorably ruffled, and he wore a blue jumper with a shirt underneath, chinos, and brown leather shoes. He looked like a kind, ordinary dad, and that was exactly what I needed. The tattooed, hoodie-wearing rockstar was in my rearview mirror.
“Yes, I’m Shannon,” I said, standing to shake his hand, “And you must be Rufus. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Rufus smiled as he took me in. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I must say, you’re even prettier than in your pictures.”
“Oh,” I flushed. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
He nodded to my latte. “I see you’ve already grabbed yourself a coffee, but can I get you anything else? A sweet treat or a pastry, perhaps?”
“Um, sure,” I bit my lip, then glanced back at the cake display cabinet. “I’ll take an almond croissant, if it’s not too much trouble.”