Read Online Dueling Moons: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 2) by Laura Del - Free Book Online Page B

covered in vinyl records. And right next to it, by the glass doors that led to the balcony, was a bookshelf. It contained no books; just DVDs, CDs, and a sound system to die for.
    As I turned my head, I saw a sixty - inch flat - screen TV mounted on the wall next to the apartment door with a DVD player and surround sound speakers. Across from the TV were two white egg chairs with red throw pillows, a black leather couch, and a glass coffee table. The glass coffee table caught my eye a moment longer because there were girly magazines fanned out on top of it.
    I shook my head, turning my gaze toward the island in the kitchen. That’s when I saw the two champagne glasses just sitting on top of the marble counter. They were filled almost to the brim with orange juice, and I glared over my shoulder at Stag.
    He smiled a sort of I - just - got - caught - smile . “Mimosa?” he asked, and I felt like punching him.
    “No, thank you,” I hissed as I turned to walk out of the apartment.
    Stag sighed. “Wait! I know it was wrong to bring you here under false pretenses, but I have to talk to you.”
    I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m hungry, so you can talk to me while I eat. After which, you’re on your own and don’t think for one second that I’m bringing your car to you. You can damn well walk back to my apartment and get it yourself.” With that, I turned around, walked through the apartment, and out onto the balcony where he had set up a round wrought iron table for breakfast. I sat down with a huff, folding my arms in the process.
    I waited all of two seconds before Stag came to join me, carrying a tray full of pancakes and bacon. He served me, and then himself, while I just sat there stone - faced . Then he sat down and I began to eat before he could say a word. I poured syrup over everything and dug in.
    “I guess I’m gonna have to talk fast,” he said, and I glared up at him, not slowing my pace. “I had to get you alone.” I rolled my eyes. I just didn’t care. “You see,” he continued, “I like you a lot and since you’re free…um…I wanted to know how you’d feel about…” he paused, but I still kept eating. “How would you feel about goin’ out with me now?”
    The fork stopped half way to my mouth, and I swallowed so hard, it hurt. “What?” I asked, as I placed the fork down on my plate.
    “Would you want to go out with me?” he repeated, a little less confident this time.
    “No,” I answered, placing my napkin on my lap. “I don’t want to go out with you.”
    “Wow,” he sounded hurt. “That’s the first time a woman has ever really rejected me.” He leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. He looked as though he was trying to figure something out.
    I shrugged. “Well, get used to it, because it’s going to keep on happening if you don’t stop being such a jerk about everything. Women don’t respect jerks, and they definitely do not respect being lied to.”
    “So you’re sayin’ that if I had told you the truth from the beginning that you would’ve said yes?”
    I shook my head. “No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying I would have respected your honesty, and probably would have said…” I paused, thinking about it for a second, “maybe.”
    “Maybe?” he asked, confused. “Wow, I really rub you the wrong way, don’t I?”
    “No, it’s not that.” I lied, and his eyes widened. “Okay, it is that,” I admitted. “But you’re my boss. I don’t have to like you in order to work for you.”
    He smiled that cocky smile of his. “I guess you’re right, girly. You don’t have to like me. But I kinda wish you did.” He stared at me, his dark, brooding, mysterious brown eyes piercing me to the very core.
    I blinked, trying to focus. I was attracted to him; there was no denying that. “What else did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, staring down at my plate.
    “Your article,” he said, and my jaw clenched. “It’s not quite