Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
She didn’t respond right away. I cut my eyes at her to see her brows drawn together as she stared straight ahead. What about that question bothered her?
“Not exactly,” she finally replied. “I, uh, decided to pursue it later in life.”
She wasn’t telling me something. I knew she had worked at Hark Allen Enterprises in the marketing division. Then she’d just left. There were no specifics as to why. I could have dug deeper, but I’d just pulled a basic background check. I might have to have a more thorough one done on her now that she’d made me curious.
“What did you do before?” I asked as I slowed and pulled into an empty parking spot outside the coffee shop she preferred.
She looked out the window, then at me. “What are we doing?”
“With me driving, you’re going to save at least thirty minutes on your commute. I thought we’d grab a coffee. I’ve not had one yet.”
Reaching to unbuckle, she nodded. “Oh, yeah, okay.”
The spark in her eyes at the mention of getting coffee was cute. She wasn’t going to argue about that at least. Small miracles.
Seven
Bay
The familiar scent of my favorite coffee shop was comforting. I’d been unsure and unsettled since walking outside to find Hale Carver. I knew his first name now. He had a daughter in DC, yet he was from Mississippi. That didn’t surprise me though. His Southern drawl was thicker than anything in Virginia. His having a daughter, however, gave me a twinge of security. Maybe. I mean, that could be a lie, but why would he make that up? He hadn’t known me when he was on that flight. His showing up had been coincidental. It had to have been. There was no way this man was stalking me.
Men who looked like him did not have to stalk a woman. Women likely stalked him. I knew Lillibeth would if she could. Her reaction to my being with him had been as expected. But she was the only flight attendant who could pick him out of a lineup. No one else had been on that flight with us. She wasn’t going on the flight to Sydney, but she would be arriving to work today for another set of domestic flights. If I didn’t report in, she’d hear about it, and she would know what to tell the authorities.
Okay, my imagination was getting out of control.
“What would you like?” Hale asked, pulling me from the rabbit hole my thoughts had gone down.
I stared up at him. I was going to order after he was done. “I, uh…” I stammered, unsure if he was planning on paying for mine. I didn’t want him to do that. His giving me a ride was weird enough. I blinked, hoping he said something.
“It ain’t that hard, Snow,” he said with a smirk.
Snow? Was he making fun of my pale skin?
“I, uh…are you done ordering?” I replied.
He nodded. “Waitin’ on you, darlin.”
Now it was darlin’. My stomach didn’t need to get all fluttery over that. He had called me darlin’ before. It was likely something he called all women. A Southern thing. Part of his sexy-cowboy swagger or whatever.
I am not into older men. I am NOT into older men, I chanted in my head even though I doubted this man was flirting with me. He was just being nice.
I wasn’t young enough to be his daughter, but I already knew all about attractive older men. I’d tried that. Hadn’t ended well.
He was staring at me…right. He had asked what I wanted.
“Oh, um, I—you don’t have to get my drink. I can do that.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “What do you want?”
Okay, fine. Arguing in the coffee shop was pointless. I’d just give him the six dollars and seventy-two cents that I knew it cost when we got back in the fancy SUV.
“Iced lavender latte with a drizzle of caramel,” I replied, biting off the, “Please,” because I didn’t like being told what to do, not that he was being rude.
The barista heard me and turned to go start the order.
“Not that I’m judging you, but lavender? In coffee?” he asked with a touch of disgust.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” I told him.
“I think I’ll have to pass,” he drawled.
The barista handed him his cup of boring black coffee. Figured he’d order that. Went with the cowboy swagger after all. He took a drink, watching me over the rim.
“Anything is better than that,” I told him, pointing at his cup.
He chuckled, but said nothing.
We waited in silence for a few moments, but my curiosity about this man was creating a pile of questions. He’d asked me some in the car, so I decided it was fair if I asked a few.
“How long are you visiting your daughter?” I asked.