Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Another?” the bartender asks. My drink has gone warm. Knowing myself, I won’t finish it. I still won’t order another, not on an empty stomach.
“No, thank you.” I open my purse, grab my phone as well as my wallet, pull a twenty-dollar bill out, and set it on the bar. Then I look at my phone. Brian, the blind date, should be here within the next few minutes, barring that he doesn’t flake out and be no-show. When I talked to one of the girls at the spa where I work, she told me horror stories. It’s pretty much a fifty-fifty chance that they don’t ghost you, cancel, or reschedule. Not that I’m expecting very much from this date seeing as how I was on the verge of canceling myself.
“Hi, there, you must be Tyra.” I’m still looking down at my phone, thumbing through the text messages that seemed to pile in the second I told Celeste I had made it here, then one from Mace’s mom telling me everything was going great at home, and to have fun. She attached a picture of Von putting the toppings on his pizza, tongue sticking out, deep in thought, melting my heart yet again.
“Oh, sorry. I am. You must be Brian?” He’s the complete opposite to Mace. Where Mace may be an attorney at one of the hottest firms in Vegas, he still has that rugged bad boy appearance, constantly sporting a five-o’clock shadow even though he shaved an hour earlier, tattoos littering both arms, solid muscle that when he wraps his arms around you, it leaves you feeling safe, loved, and secure in every aspect of life.
“I am. I gave the hostess my name, and she said our table should be ready in a few minutes. Would you like another while we wait?” Brian asks as he shakes my hand, settling in beside me, light to Mace’s darkness. Where my ex-husband has dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, a mischievousness beneath the darkness that he holds close to the vest, Brian is not like that. He’s got light blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin tone, a lightness in his voice, and the thick black-framed glasses are a walking contradiction to everything I’ve known.
“I’d love to say I could hold my own by having another drink, but it’s probably best I wait to eat something first.” The soft chuckle in his tone, the smile he gives so freely… If I were a woman who was ready to look for a man, future step daddy material, Brian might be it. As it stands, I’m not ready, nor am I prepared to open this chapter in my book, not yet at least.
“I can appreciate the honesty. I’m going to order something, if you don’t mind, though,” he replies, grabbing his wallet out of his khaki pants, another thing Mace would never wear. Dark suits for work? Yes. At home, he was a lived-in Levi’s kind of man, top button undone, shirtless, and with one look, one sweep of his tongue across his lower lip, I knew what he was thinking. Longing takes over my body, and I clench my thighs when I think about the ways Mace would make good on his promise. No matter where we were, he’d make it happen, even if that meant he didn’t come. I always came first, until I didn’t.
“Not at all.” The Diet Coke and Tito’s vodka wasn’t really hitting the spot like it usually would. It could be because my nerves are shot or that I’m not in the right atmosphere, but a few sips in, and I was pushing it away, knowing tonight wasn’t going to be the night to have a couple of drinks. It’s probably for the better, since I’d probably have to order a ride home or ask Brian for a ride, which I would never do. That would be giving him not only my address but my son’s, and getting into a car with a virtual stranger even if your mother-in-law knows them is breaking a rule every woman should follow.
“Piña Colada, please,” Brian asks the bartender. I’m trying not to judge, but I think I drink stronger stuff than he does, and I can’t help but compare him to Mace once again. The fruity concoction is one I’d order while on vacation at a beach or near the water. Mace would never order something like that. He’s more of a whisky on the rocks person, sometimes adding Coke to the mix, other times an orange or a lemon peel when we went the rare night out.
“I know it’s fruity, but I’m not big on tasting a drink full of liquor,” Brian admits after ordering his drink. I smile because I’m really not sure what else to say.
“That’s okay. You know what you like.” I shrug nonchalantly.