Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. Let me start again,” she says and then explains the entire story to the man.”
“God, no way it wasn’t me. I’ve been married since ‘92 and the wife would have killed me for doing something like that.”
“Oh, for some reason I thought this would be easy,” she says laughing wryly.
“Sorry darling. I’ve got something on the stove.”
“Of course, we’ll get out of your hair. Thank you for your time,” I tell him. Graham Parker goes back into his house and lead her back to my car.
“Thank you taking me out here,” she says at the same time her stomach grumbles.
“It’s no problem really but let’s get some food into you,” I say spotting a roadside diner. I pull into the parking lot and into a space. Inside, the diner is twenties themed and that surprises us.
“Welcome to The Roaring Twenties. I’m Greta. What can I get ya?”
“I’ll have the burger and fries.”
“And for your girlfriend?”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” January says quickly, pissing me off. “But I’ll have the same thing and a chocolate shake.”
“Coming right up,” she says, turning to leave.
“I think she’s supposed to be Greta Garbo. The wig is a dead giveaway.”
“You gotta stop doing that.”
“Doing what? Pointing out movie stars from the twenties. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve ever done that.”
“No, not that,” I say, chuckling. “You are so quick to deny that you’re my girlfriend.”
“Oh, well, I’m not your girlfriend. Why do people think we’re a thing?”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not my intention.”
“What would be so bad about dating me?”
I hate how long she stares at me. I want to kiss those pouty lips until she knows that she’s mine. I’m almost positive that she not going to answer me when she opens her mouth. Her flustered response gives me hope that this isn’t one-sided.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
JANUARY
Great, now I feel guilty for not trying to be too obvious. This is not how I pictured this going. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad and I am not saying there is anything wrong with the idea. I guess I just…I don’t know… it wouldn’t make sense.” I shrug because that is the only way I can think of to answer him.
“And why wouldn’t it make sense?” He leans closer to me.
“I mean because you’re you and I’m me.” Yeah and that makes more sense. I mentally shake my head. “I guess I’m saying you have seen the world. You’re a soldier. You’ve saved lives and kept us safe. Me, I’m a lost twenty-three-year-old whining because my dad is not my bio dad. Compared to you…” He rubs his thumb across my cheek and whispers in my ear.
“You’re perfect, hazel eyes. You are bright, considerate and funny and any man, me included, would be happy to have you, including me.” I duck my head and try to hide the blush. Not to mention the shiver going through my body from his proximity is serious. I mean if girls could get woody I would be sporting one right now. “How about this? Let's not make this something serious. No expectations or anything. We have a pretty hefty adventure ahead of us where we are going to be spending a lot of time together. Why don’t we just take it day by day and see where it goes.” I look up into his eyes and the sincerity in his words lifts a weight off me.
“That would be amazing,” I tell him, tucking my loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“So we have a deal? Fun and time. That is all we are promising right now.” He holds his hand out and I take it. “Good. Now I don't know about you, but I am ready to get out of here. What do you say?”
“Yes, please.” He leaves money for our bill and tip, and we walk to the car.
The ride home is more comfortable, less stressful. It was like this was our dry run and we passed it or something. “So were you disappointed it wasn’t Graham?” he asks, chuckling.
“No. He was…something else. Definitely not who I wanted to be attached to. He was sort of creepy,” I tell him to be honest. From the moment he opened the door and looked at me I felt exposed or something.
“Yeah something was definitely not right with that guy. So where to next?” I pull out the paper with the long list of names.
“How about Savannah? Have you been?”
“I have as a matter of fact. An old service buddy of mine works at a tattoo shop out there called The Tattooed Vixen. It's where I get all of my ink. I have been meaning to go back and get some more.”
“That sounds fun. Maybe we can find time to do that. I would love to get something to commemorate this journey, you know and maybe something for my mom. What do you think?” I ask him, plotting out the tats in my mind now.