Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
I jut my chin at her. “We have to talk, Annie.”
She nods her head. “Okay, fine, but not right now. I can’t lose this job.”
I gawk at her. I mean, this is ridiculous. She doesn’t need this job. But instead of arguing with her, I stand up. “Fine.”
I pull money from my wallet and toss it onto the table. The cake was untouched, and it feels like a crime for not eating it, but there’s no way I can stomach anything right now. I walk past Annie and out the front door. I cross the street and go to the passenger side of my truck. I open the glove box, and sure enough, there sits Annie’s phone. It has a custom case she had made. It’s pink with some kind of sparkles, and in big black letters, it says Mrs. Clay. I power the phone on, and instantly, it starts to ding with all my messages. The battery is fully charged, and I stuff the phone into my pocket.
Instead of getting into my truck, I pace up and down the sidewalk. Over and over, I go, back and forth. I’m trying to calm myself down, even though I feel like I’m about to lose it. I want to throw Annie over my shoulder, drive her back to our ranch, and then not let her ever leave again. But I can’t do that. I need her to want to be with me, and I’m not sure where or how I went wrong. How could I have been so mistaken about our relationship?
I watch through the big front windows as Annie, Violet, and the staff go through their paces to close the restaurant. It feels like hours, but it’s probably only thirty minutes later when Annie walks out the front door. I jog across the street to where she’s standing. “Now what? Where are you going?”
She keeps walking. “To my apartment.”
She has no idea that her words gut me. “You have an apartment? Here in Whiskey Run?”
“Yep.”
I growl. “And you think this is safe? To just walk down the street in the dark?”
She laughs, and I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s shaking her head at me. “Yes, this is Whiskey Run. Nothing is going to happen here.”
I grit my teeth. “Annie…”
She holds her hand up to stop me. “Please, don’t try and tell me how dangerous the streets of Whiskey Run are. I know better.”
In pure frustration, I pull her phone from my pocket. I grab her hand and put the phone in it. She’s about to argue with me, but I stop her. “Please, if you’re going to insist on living on your own, away from me, keep the phone.”
She blinks and drops it in her purse.
I huff out a breath and remind myself that I need to pick my battles. “We need to talk, Annie.”
She pulls to a stop, crosses her arms over her chest, and taps her foot. “Fine, talk.”
I blurt it out without even thinking. “You left me.”
She just stares at me, and I ask her the one question that’s been on my mind since she left. “Do you love me?”
She puts a hand to her chest. Emotion fills her face, and she takes a deep breath. I wait for her to answer me, but all she says is my name. “Dustin.”
I suck in a breath. “Answer me. You owe me that at least.”
She shakes her head. “You think I owe you. Why?”
I want to reach for her and pull her against my chest but stop myself. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean you left me and didn’t tell me anything. I deserve an answer, Annie.” I ram my hand through my hair and step away from her to put some distance between us. It’s the last thing I want, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want me to touch her. “Can you just tell me what I did?”
She starts walking again, and I fall into step beside her. She’s not going to answer me, so I stuff my hands in my pockets, hold my head down, and keep pace with her.
I’m trying to rein in my frustration, but it’s hard. “Fine. Can I ask you something else?”
She hesitates and then shrugs.
“What are you doing here, Annie? Why are you still in Whiskey Run? Working as a waitress and living in an apartment? I knew you’d leave me one day, but I thought when you did, you’d go as far from this place as you could get.”
She points at the apartment above Glaze Bakery. “This is me.”
I look up at the one light in the window upstairs. “Why, Annie? I knew I wasn’t good enough for you, but this doesn’t make sense at all.”
She makes a big to-do of rolling her eyes. “At one time I would have thought you were the smartest man I know, Dustin Clay. Now, I’m not so sure.”