Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
"Welcome to Moe's!" three different waitresses shout as soon as we step over the threshold. The smell of grease is even stronger here, like it's cooked into every surface. Half the diners in the restaurant turn to look at us as if they're wondering what the fuck we're doing dressed up in a place like this, but they just shrug and go back to their food and conversation like they don't care.
Lilah practically drags me across the checkered floor to a booth in the corner. The red leather benches are new, the backs high enough to shut out the rest of the diners. The tabletop is covered in old newspaper clippings, protected by a thick sheet of plastic fused to the wood beneath. The old jukebox in the corner still works, judging by the 1980s music belting from the built-in speakers.
"You come here often?" I ask, sliding into the booth across from Lilah, genuinely curious. I want to know everything about her. Most women with parents as rich as hers wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. They don't run around in T-shirts and ripped jeans. If they own a business, they'd never dream of sitting on the floor to stock shelves themselves. They're spoiled, pampered little princesses who live in designer brands and expect the whole world to revolve around them. I think Lilah would prefer if the world didn't even know she existed.
"Yep," she says, grinning at me. "Jazz and I are here every Sunday for lunch. Their burgers are the best cure for a hangover."
I arch a brow. "You're hungover every Sunday?"
"Most of them." She laughs softly. "Stocking and inventory are a lot more fun when copious amounts of wine are involved. We usually finish a bottle or three while we work, wake up regretting it, swear we're going to change our ways, and then do it all over again the next week."
"You two are close?"
Her expression softens as she nods. "We've been friends since we were in third grade." She flashes me an impish grin. "We got sent to the principal's office together for beating up a boy who tried to put a frog down my shirt."
For some reason, the fact that she was always a little savage who doesn't take any shit doesn't surprise me at all. I think she was probably born kicking ass and taking names.
"She moved halfway across the country to chase this dream with me," she continues. "We're as close as I am to Lucy."
"Lucy is your sister, right?"
"Yeah." She cocks her head to the side. "She knows you. Well, she knows your company, anyway. She said that you guys buy a lot of their wine for the holidays."
"Annual Christmas party." I grin at her, leaning back in the booth. "You talked to your sister about me."
"What? No." Her face falls into a scowl.
"You did."
"Whatever. It was only because you're a demon after my building, not because you kissed me."
"Uh-huh." I chuckle, my eyes locked on her face as her cheeks turn pink, giving away the lie. She absolutely talked to her sister about that kiss, which means she didn't hate it.
"Stop talking," she grumbles, making me laugh.
I reach across the table, snagging her hand. "For the record, best goddamn kiss of my life." And then, because I don't want her getting the wrong idea and thinking I'm just kissing women all wily-nily, I add, "Just so we're clear, it's also the first one in a long time. You're the only thing I've wanted in longer than I can remember."
She rolls her eyes at me, but she can't hide the way her expression softens. "I guess it is true what they say."
"What's that?"
"The devil rarely roars. He smiles instead."
"You really think I'm the devil, huh?"
She shrugs one shoulder, opening her mouth like she's going to say something, only to stop when a waitress pops up at the table, smiling.
Lilah looks startled by her appearance and then worried. She immediately slouches in her seat, pulling her hand from mine like we just got busted fucking on top of the table.
"Hey, Lilah, honey." The waitress—a pretty woman not much older than me, with dark red hair and green eyes—places two menus down in front of us, her gaze flickering across me.
"Hey, Aunt Audrey. What are you doing here?"
Aunt Audrey?
"One of the girls called out sick, so I popped in to help cover for her for a few hours. I didn't expect to see you here before Sunday."
"Change of plans," Lilah murmurs.
"I see that." Her aunt grins at her and then holds a hand out to me. "I'm Audrey Goodson."
Well, shit. No wonder Lilah looks like she wants the floor to swallow her. Audrey is married to Eli Goodson, Oliver's father's twin brother. I'm guessing Lucy will know within hours that we were here. Lilah is probably having waking nightmares about Spanx and push-up bras right now.