That Day - Karen Deen (large ebook reader .TXT) 📗

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m fascinated about your head and the creative brain it has inside. You’re good, I mean, really good. I couldn’t put it down last night when I needed to sleep. For once I was tired and was ready to sleep, but the story had me hooked and I kept telling myself one more page and that turned into one more chapter.”

Her face looks like she doesn’t know if she should believe me or not. “But you’re a guy?”

I can’t hold in my laughter. “Yes, and I’m sure you can say that truthfully after seeing me naked,” I say, which brings that beautiful blush to her cheeks. “But besides that, so what if I’m a guy? I’m also a reader who likes a well-written story. I’m sure you have plenty of male readers who enjoy a good love story.”

“Well, yeah, I do have male readers, it’s just, you’re a guy who told me you’re into crime thrillers, which my books are not even close to. The biggest mystery in my books is what chapter they are finally going to give in to the powerful all-consuming attraction they have for one another and stop denying they’re falling in love.” The excitement in her eyes when she talks about her books tells me how much she loves what she does.

“Exactly, hence why I said we need to discuss the book. You are killing me, woman. Does he get his girl, or does she take the safe option of the guy her parents want her to marry?”

I stand my board up in the sand. I need to get this wetsuit off because I’m starting to overheat in the morning sun. These things are great at keeping you warm in the cold water, but once they’re dry it’s like a sauna inside them. I pull down the zipper and peel the top half off, leaving my chest bare, and I secretly love the fact that Asha can’t look away.

Smirking, I’m about to say something, but then stop at the last minute. I’m trying to convince her we can be friends, so I need to pull back on the flirting.

She pulls herself together, giving her head a little shake and not even thinking about me seeing her do it.

“You’re one of those readers who needs to know what the ending is, even though you haven’t made it halfway into the story? Please tell me you don’t peek at the end of the book. If you’re one of those people, I’m walking away now. That’s just sacrilege.”

“No, I’m the opposite. I say I want to know, but really, I love the pain the author causes me all the way to the frigging end of the book. That’s what makes a bestseller in my eyes. A book that stays with you after you turn the last page.”

“Then I’ll let you off, and there is no chance in hell that I’m spilling the plot to you. Now that you’ve started, you need to see it through to the end. Then we can talk!” She looks down at her watch. “Oh shit, sorry, I’ve kept you here another fifteen minutes. I’ve made you late for work. Quick, Coco, we need to go. Sorry, Kurt.”

Reaching out, I grab her arm. “Asha, stop worrying. I’m the boss. If I’m late to a job, then that’s my choice. Plus, I enjoy talking to you. As you might have guessed. It’s easy, and we never seem to have a problem finding things to say. So, like I said, I’ll go to work. You go and write some more and let me come over tonight and bring some dinner. Then we can relax and talk about whatever takes your fancy, including you spilling the ending of this book.”

Rolling her eyes at me, she just laughs.

I make a face at her. “What? It was worth a try to slip it in there. What do you say? Is Italian or Mexican your favorite? And her true love or the wimpy guy her parents have picked for her?” I gently let her arm go now that I have her attention.

“Oh my god. Okay. Dinner, Mexican at seven. I’ll make dessert, and the guy she picks…” Turning her back, she starts to run off with Coco, laughing to herself and yelling over her shoulder, “Get to work, Kurt!”

“Dessert better be worth the agony you’re putting me through. See you tonight, you little torturer!”

Grabbing my board under my arm and jogging back up the beach to my truck, I can’t remember when I’ve ever felt this happy. Not a forced feeling, just an overall easy happiness, knowing that after a hard day today on the job site, I can go for a surf then head home, shower, pick-up dinner, and enjoy a night of laughs.

No expectations.

Just a good time, and perhaps trying to find out a bit more about my new friend.

While the whole time, I’ll be repeating in the back of my mind, Don’t fuck her, don’t fuck her. Even though you want to, just don’t fuck her!

Chapter Seven

KURT

“You’re late.” Ricky throws a grape at me from where he’s sitting on the railing of the back deck, which we’ll finish building today.

“Oh, did you miss me over the weekend, little Ricky? Couldn’t wait to see me this morning?” Clipping my tool belt around my waist, I bend to pick up the grape and peg it back at him.

“In your dreams, boss. So, where’s your late slip?” he says, jumping down off the railing.

“I gave it to the boss on the way in. Oh wait, that’s right, I’m the boss, so…” Giving him the middle finger, I start unloading the materials off the stack that was delivered early this morning. We need to start trimming the floor we got finished on Friday.

“Yeah, yeah. Pull the old boss card. Don’t worry, I’ve got a good memory for the next time I’m late.”

“You mean tomorrow, or Wednesday