Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“To be fair, I also had three donuts and a slice of pumpkin bread,” I said, but I was already using the plate to fold the pizza, so I could pick it up and shove it in my mouth.
“Sweets aren’t dinner. At least, that’s something my mom would say.”
“My mother would probably say that sweets are only for special occasions.” Dante moved in beside me, brows lowered at my words. “She’s what the internet might call an ‘almond mom.’”
“What’s an almond mom?”
“Basically, a health freak. To the point of it almost being disordered. Both my mom and grandma were in beauty pageants when they were younger, so looks were really important around my house.”
“In my family, food is love. Which is why I needed to start hitting the gym in my teens. I blew up like crazy. Didn’t seem to have the same metabolism my siblings did, so I had to work a lot harder to stay in shape.”
“Just allow me a moment to imagine what Thanksgiving must look like at your family’s house,” I said, sucking in a deep breath.
“Your family didn’t even let up on the holidays.”
“My mother and grandmother would say something about how one day’s worth of indulgence wasn’t worth six months of having to work out to lose it. Which, obviously, makes no sense. But they believe it. We used to each get two slices of dry turkey and about four non-starchy vegetable sides. No butter or oil.”
“Jesus.”
“To be fair, my grandma can still rock a bikini, so it works. But, yeah, carbs are too good to go without,” I said, taking another greedy bite of my pizza.
“Don’t gotta ration yourself,” Dante said as if reading my mind. “My cousin dropped off a dozen pizzas for the staff to celebrate opening night. Even if you stuff your face, you’re probably still going to be bringing leftovers home.”
“Well, that’s not a hardship. This might be the best pizza I’ve had. And I’ve tried a few places in the area.”
“Yeah, Lucky makes a good pie.”
“Pie?”
“Pizza,” he said, shooting me a smirk. “That’s how you know you’re not from around here. We call it pie.”
“So I’ve been giving myself away as a transplant by ordering a plain pizza?”
“Yeah. It’s a plain pie.”
“Good to know. Any other Jerseyisms I should be aware of?”
“Well, there’s the whole pork roll/ Taylor ham debate. And the sub/hoagie thing. The debate on whether or not central Jersey even exists…”
“But we’re in central Jersey.”
“Exactly,” Dante said. That little smirk of his was stupidly attractive. And it was even sexier in the dim light cast by the twinkle lights above us.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn’t get the chance when a blood-curdling scream broke through the night. A second later, a pretty blonde came barreling out of the woods, her gaze darting over her shoulder again and again, looking very much like a final girl in a horror movie.
“Whoa, you’re okay,” I said, stepping in front of her.
“There’s… there’s a body…”
“If it helps, his name is Cody, and he’s in school to become a vet tech,” I explained, watching the confusion chase the fear off her face.
“Oh,” she said, offering me an embarrassed smile. Her hand lifted to run through her hair. It didn’t escape me that it was shaking. “Yeah. I, uh, forgot for a minute that it wasn’t real.”
“That’s a good fight-or-flight instinct you have,” Dante said, shrugging it off. “Come on. Let’s get you some hot chocolate to calm you down.”
Right.
Of course, he would be into the blonde woman.
And that should have had absolutely no impact on me. What did I care who he found attractive? Or how the woman, once she realized she had his attention, lavished her attention on him, throwing her head back to laugh, touching his arm, moving too close?
Even if I wanted Dante Grassi, he was my boss. That meant off-limits. Because I needed this job more than I needed to get laid.
Well, that was debatable.
But sex was low on the priority list when you’d been busy completely uprooting your life and starting over in an unfamiliar place.
You also had to factor in that my last partner was also the catalyst for moving all the way from Florida to New Jersey.
Who wouldn’t want to burn their whole life down when they found out that the man they’d been in a relationship with—who they were envisioning rings, a dress, a white picket fence, and three kids with—had been cheating through an online dating profile that he’d set up the month after you two became official?
That sure felt like a sign from the universe that it was time to shake things up a bit.
Since I’d been dreaming of a trip to the upper East Coast already, the decision had been an easy one. New Jersey was a logical choice. It was a solid eighteen-hour drive home, which felt doable but did give me an excuse not to go back for any little family event. It gave me proximity to a beach, which felt important since I’d grown up near one. And it was also close to both New York City and Philly, while still feeling removed from the craziness of a big city.