Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Thick, wavy blond hair, which looked like he had just run his fingers through it; the bluest eyes I’d ever seen; tall and lean, like a runner perhaps; and well dressed. He was close to my age, but he could be a year or two older. There was something about the way he held himself that spoke of maturity that most guys my age still lacked. Not that I was dating.
The familiar pang in my chest reminded me why I would never trust a man again. Not that my heart was available. Rome had shattered it, and almost a year later, it still remained in a million pieces. Shoving thoughts of him away before depression set in, I focused on the man whose feet I’d almost literally fallen at.
“Thank you. I, uh, wasn’t paying attention. I need caffeine,” I explained.
His smile made his eyes light up. “Don’t apologize to me. I was the one who walked right in front of ya,” he replied in a thick Irish accent.
That was nice to listen to. I didn’t hear it very often.
“I was in a rush to get some coffee. Probably my lack of caffeine. Anyway, thanks for not letting me embarrass myself further,” I told him, then lifted my hand for a small wave before leaving him alone so he could go about his day.
“I’m in need of a cup myself. Would you mind if I joined you?” he asked.
I paused, then turned back to him. Did I mind? Why was he asking? I’d had guys flirt with me since my arrival here last fall, but this guy didn’t look like the ones in my classes. He was more refined, and he was foreign. He might be visiting or new in town and need a friend. I couldn’t shut down every male who spoke to me. Just the ones who wanted to date me.
“I, uh…” I didn’t know what to say.
I was torn. He seemed so nice, and I liked listening to him talk.
“It’s on me,” he replied. “Does that sweeten the pot at all?”
The way his lips quirked as amusement danced in his eyes made me laugh.
Okay, yeah. Why not?
“Actually, I’m close to broke, so, yes, that does sweeten the pot,” I replied.
He made a dramatic show of relief and blew out a breath, then stepped forward and held out his hand. “I think perhaps we should know each other’s name before enjoying a cup together. Eamon Murphy,” he told me.
I glanced down at his hand and then lifted mine to slide it into his grasp. “Salem Gray,” I replied.
“Salem,” he repeated. “That’s unique and beautiful. I like it.”
I hadn’t been given much from the people who had brought me into this world, but my name was the one thing I could possibly give them credit for.
“The only gift my parents gave me worth keeping,” I quipped.
He laughed, and it was a pleasant sound. I guessed his accent had something to do with making it so nice. “I’d say they gifted you with much more than a beautiful name.”
The glint of appreciation in his eyes sent of warning bells in my head. There was attraction in that look, but he was seeing the exterior. He hadn’t glimpsed the brokenness inside me that held flaws.
I’d have coffee with him, then say goodbye. Anything more would be a waste of time for both of us.
Epilogue
Rome
Present Day–Six Months Later
Paradise Brew wasn’t open to the public tonight. Instead, it was decorated in blue streamers, balloons, and a table in the center, covered in baby gifts. The place was still, however, filled with bikers in their cuts, drinking beer. It was just that they were also eating blue cupcakes and finger foods that Pepper Abe had provided.
The baby shower was a little late, but the original date had been canceled when my little man decided he was entering the world a month early. He had come out fighting mad until he heard his mother’s voice. I still got choked up when I remembered him going quiet, his little eyes looking around for her. She laughed and cried as she held him in her arms. I’d fucking cried, too, because they were mine.
I hadn’t been sure we’d get that moment, and I’d been okay with it. As long as I had Salem, that was all I needed.
Van Cayson Bower let out a wail, and I started to get my son from Nina, who was currently holding him, but Salem was there already. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail because our little man loved to get himself a handful and pull it. I’d told her I couldn’t blame him because I liked doing that too. Which had gotten me a scolding look that made me laugh.
She was already back in her pre-pregnancy jeans, but tonight, she wore a soft, strapless blue dress that was fitted at the top, showcasing her tits, which I wasn’t crazy about, but she’d argued that the dress made it easier to nurse Van. Thankfully, her tits were all it showed off. It then flowed freely, almost to the floor. She was stunning, and, fuck, she glowed. It was hard to see anyone else in the room. She walked around with her own personal spotlight on her.