Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Technically, we’ve been alone for the last couple of hours.”
“But with the constant threat of being interrupted.” He kissed me and slid his hands down my back.
When he started to reach for my belt, I said, “I love where you’re going with this. But I’m sweaty and disgusting, and I have a little more work to do. If you wait until we get home and give me a chance to shower, you can have your way with me.”
“Deal. Can I do anything to help?”
“No, thanks. I have this down to a pretty quick routine.”
Twenty minutes later, he followed me home in his car. Then, while he put his overnight bag in the bedroom and got comfortable, I stripped down and stepped into a hot shower.
I’d been in there about a minute when he pulled back the shower curtain and asked, “Want company?”
I ran my gaze down his naked body and grinned. “Like I’d say no to that.”
Tory joined me and dispensed some body wash into his hand. He then proceeded to wash and massage every inch of me, from my head to my feet. I leaned back against him and let my eyes slide shut, sighing with pleasure when he started jerking me off. It took no time at all for him to push me over the edge. I came so hard that my legs almost buckled.
He shut off the water and dried both of us before leading me to the bedroom. I tried to keep my eyes open when we climbed into bed, but it was a losing battle, so I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing, Arie?”
“Because this was such a boring visit for you,” I mumbled. “You drove all this way, only to sit in my diner for hours on end. Now I can’t even stay awake.”
“Today was amazing. I loved spending time with you and getting to see the diner. I feel like I know you so much better now.”
I murmured, “You’re so sweet,” a moment before falling asleep in his arms.
I opened my eyes sometime in the middle of the night, the dream that had woken me quickly fading from my memory. Tory was sitting beside me, reading something on his phone. I reached for him and muttered, “I love it when I wake up and you’re here.”
He set aside his phone and glasses and shifted around so we were face-to-face. When he brushed my hair back and kissed me, it made my heart skip a beat.
I asked, “Are we still trying to tell ourselves we’re casually dating? Because honestly, this doesn’t feel casual.”
“We have a really good thing going right now,” he whispered. “Can we please keep it the way it is, without trying to label or redefine it?”
“Sure, we can do that.” I knew we’d have to talk about it sooner or later, though.
I got up at five a.m., like usual. Tory started to get up too, but he was so groggy that I told him to stay in bed. He mumbled something about calling me later before pulling the covers up to his ears and falling back asleep.
When I got to the diner, I went into autopilot. There was a ton of prep work to do before we opened at seven. I’d done it so many times that I didn’t even have to think about it.
Over the next few hours, I barely stopped moving. Our breakfast rush was as busy as ever. My regulars came in and lingered over food and coffee. Once things died down a bit, I found the time to try a new pasta recipe, which I added as a special to the chalkboard in the dining room.
Then, around eleven-thirty, a guy with a clipboard showed up and had me sign for a delivery. I assumed it was my new two burner coffee maker. It had been on back order and was meant to replace the one that was dying a slow, painful death. Instead, the man wheeled the most perfect, gorgeous vintage jukebox into the diner.
When I told him I hadn’t ordered it, he said, “Well, somebody did, and they paid extra for same-day delivery.”
There was an envelope taped to the side of it. I plucked it off and read the note inside, which said: Forget what I said yesterday, the diner is already absolutely perfect. In fact, it’s the best diner there ever was. Even so, I thought you might enjoy this. Love, Tory.
A million emotions flooded me. I hurried outside and called Tory. When he answered, I fought back tears and said, “It’s so beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it, but it’s too expensive. That’s a vintage Wurlitzer from the 1940s! I know what they go for, and I can’t—”
“Yes, you can, Arie. Please don’t worry about the cost.”
I asked, “How did you manage this? We only talked about it yesterday.”