If she loved him in return.
Nathan Waterford slammed the door to his navy blue Blazer
and strode across the asphalt into Besta Pizza Around. He smoothed
his hand over the lump of bills in his pocket and tucked the
insulated pizza bag under his arm.
On a steamy Saturday night in July, he’d rather be in bed
with the woman of his dreams, not working to earn a dime he didn’t
need. His day job as an estate lawyer paid the bills, but being at
the pizza shop got him closer to Courteney, the woman in his heart.
Hell, if he played his cards right, his desires might come
to fruition. One day...
Crestline, Ohio wasn’t a teeming metropolis, but Nate and
his business partner, Arran Mayes aimed to create the best little
restaurant in the quiet farming community. The scent of tomatoes and
yeast swirled around Nate, making his stomach rumble. When did I eat
last?
Behind the bar, Arran stood drying a beer stein. “Well, you
got your wish, my friend.”
As he slapped the silver bag onto the polished wooden bar,
Nate glanced at the remaining patrons in the dining room. A couple
giggled in the corner booth, while a trio of students wolfed down
the last few slices of pizza at the round table under the window.
Good times. He remembered being so carefree, before he had to become
a man and work for a living.
“And you’re talking about what?” Nate shook his head and
leaned on the bar rail. “Get me up to speed.”
Arran sighed and plunked the glass onto the towel. “You
missed drama involving your girl.”
His wish? His girl?
Confused, Nate stared at his ruddy-haired friend. If his
memory served him, Courteney Bennett belonged to no man. Nate had
seriously considered making a play for the saucy little romance
writer. From her chocolate-colored tresses and her consuming mocha
eyes, down her curvy body to the tips of her toes, he longed to make
her his. He itched to grasp her hips while driving into her from
behind. She turned him on like no other.
Thank God the bar covered the tent in his jeans.
“Don’t look at me like you’re surprised.” Rolling his eyes,
Arran picked up a wide mouth wine goblet. “As you know, Courteney
and Byron split two months ago. Well, he came back to—” he hooked
his fingers in the air, “—make things right.” Arran snorted. “His
version of making things right meant parading his new girlfriend,
Amber something-or-another, right under Court’s nose. The jerk.”
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