Page 41 of Chance
“It’s not my fault Reid is a pig,” I sucked the excess grease and salt off my thumb.
She was right, though.It was the best soup I’d ever eaten.When Marcy pushed the container into my hands with a bag of fresh croutons, I’d done a little dance all the way out to my Jeep.Working at Sanctuary was fulfilling in more than one way.The shelter’s cook was going to give me a big ass, and I didn’t even care.
“For today’s afternoon snack, Marcy made these bacon-wrapped apple things with cheese.”My eyes nearly crossed, remembering how amazing the food had been.“I ate like twelve of them.To be fair, she kept shoving them at me, so it wasn’t as if I was gorging on purpose.I think I was talking too much, and it was her way of telling me to please shut up.”
“You could never talk too much, peaches.I love the sound of your voice.”
There he went, being all sweet, making it harder to hold that grudge.
“Kiss-ass,” Evy snickered.“But he’s also right.Your voice is one of my favorite sounds in the world.”
“Wait, are you working at Sanctuary?”Chance shifted, his leg pressing roughly against mine as he turned so his big body was angled toward me.“How did I not know this?”
“It wasn’t like you asked personal questions.”He winced, his throat bobbing slightly, remorse filling his eyes.I hadn’t expected him to want to get to know me.All those women at Hannigans’ had made sure I knew the score where this man was concerned.And then his mother had hardcore reinforced that.
“How long have you been working there?”he asked.
“I started yesterday.Nishia put in a good word for me.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it there.Everyone is amazing.All my coworkers are fantastic.”I’d also met a few of the residents.If I hadn’t known before that social work was where I belonged, I did after meeting those women.In only two days of working at Sanctuary, I already felt like I was making a difference in small ways in someone’s life.
Each time I walked through the front door of my new job, it seemed like William’s voice grew a little quieter in my head.
“I usually take the Sunday shifts, walking the perimeter, making sure there aren’t any security issues.Marcy makes a huge dinner every Sunday.”His eyes drew me in.Those lighter lines of blue stole my focus, making me wish for things I knew better than to hope for.
It hurt.
I hated that I wanted him.That no matter what I was doing or where I was, he popped into my head so effortlessly.I hated him for making my heart fucking yearn for him.
“Sundays are our days,” Evy announced, unashamedly popping three fries into her mouth at once.“We already decided that, didn’t we, Evie?”
“Yes.Sundays are twin days.Just us.Always and forever.”
“But she works at Sanctuary Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.In-person classes on Mondays and Fridays.”
I kicked my sister, not hard, but not gentle either.Why was she giving him my schedule, dang it?
Not that I expected him to remember it or anything.No doubt he’d forget about it in five minutes, tops.
Our waitress appeared again, setting down a plate.Mashed potatoes with extra gravy, a serving of green beans, and something battered and deep-fried.It looked like a chicken cutlet but smelled like beef.
“Chicken-fried steak,” Evy said, making it sound like she was making a snide comment on Chance’s food choices, but really, she’d seen my curiosity and didn’t want me to be embarrassed because I didn’t know what was being served.
Chance cut into the meat, and my mouth watered.He scooped a little of the mashed potatoes onto the steak then lifted his fork.
To my mouth.
Without hesitation, I opened and accepted the bite, a helpless moan escaping me before I could control myself.“Oh my God,” I whined as I chewed, eyes closed, hands moving in front of my mouth.To savor the moment.To ward off more unexpected, though perfectly seasoned deliciousness.“What witchcraft is this?”
Evy was noticeably quiet across from me.Lifting my lashes, I found myself closer to Chance, his face barely an inch away.Those lighter-blue lines in his eyes seemed to glow, stealing my ability to think, to form words.His nose playfully bumped mine, the scruff on his jaw brushing against my cheek.
I had a mouthful of food.No way he wanted to kiss me.He wouldn’t.He?—
Kissing the corner of my mouth, he sat back, shoveling a big bite of food into his mouth.
A refilled glass of Diet Coke was shoved into my hand.Evy told a random story about a customer that had no point.She was just filling the silence.I ignored the rest of the fries, drank the rest of my fresh Diet Coke, and stayed quiet for the remainder of the meal, lost in my head.
