Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
My feet move before my brain can even register it because it’s going around and around with the fact he searched the restaurant by the address and then made a fucking reservation. A. Reservation.
“Here you are,” she says when she gets to a table in the corner, “as requested.” I look at the square table with four chairs.
I look over at Stone, who just smiles at her, then looks at me. “Grab a seat,” he urges me and doesn’t move until I’ve taken off my coat and sat down on the seat in the corner. He shrugs off his jacket and then pulls the beanie off, putting his hat in his jacket pocket before placing it on the chair facing me, where I’m expecting him to sit, but nope, not Stone. He pulls out the chair next to me and sits beside me.
“Why are you sitting there”—I point at where he’s sitting—“instead of sitting across from me?”
“Because if I sit in front of you,” he starts, reaching over to grab my chair and pulling it to him, “I won’t be able to do this.” He bends his head, and I’m expecting a kiss on the lips, but instead, he kisses me right behind my ear.
All of the words in the whole entire dictionary are stuck in my throat. There is not one word, not one vowel, not one syllable that comes out of my mouth. “How about you not do that?” I suggest when I’m finally able to speak.
“What fun would that be?” He puts his arm around the back of my chair and rubs his thumb up and down on my shoulder, the feeling like a feather through the silk top. “How was your day?”
“Spoke with Homeland Security about you,” I deadpan with a straight face, “that was fun.” His mouth hangs open. “Relax, I’m kidding.”
The server approaches us, and I order a pitcher of sangria while Stone orders a sparkling water. “How was your day?” I ask, trying not to sound nervous or that being this close to him is making me sweat.
“It was good,” he says. “Not as great as right now that I’m with you.” He smirks at me and winks. “Always better when I get to be with you.”
The server comes back, putting down two wineglasses and filling them up with sangria before giving Stone a glass of sparkling water, telling us he’ll give us a minute to look over the menu. “Shall we toast?” I ask, anxious to busy my hands before I reach over and massage his impressive package in those jeans.
“We should,” he replies, grabbing his sparkling water and not the glass of sangria. “Here is to the best first date ever. But the second-best day ever.”
“That makes no sense,” I say to him, holding up my glass and clinking it with him. “What was the first-best day ever?” I bring the glass to my lips, taking a sip, not expecting what comes out of his mouth.
“The first time I kissed you was the best day ever.” He takes a sip of his water. “This is the best date ever.”
“Pretty sure of yourself,” I mumble to him, and he just chuckles. “How the hell did you make reservations?” I finally ask him, drinking the rest of the sangria in my glass.
I will admit, Stone really pushes me out of my comfort zone. He says things I’m never expecting him to say. He kisses me when I least expect it, so it’s no surprise when he tells me, “After practice, I came by here to make sure I spoke with the manager and got a reservation. I wanted a quiet table where I could sit next to you and be able to touch you.” My mouth hangs open, literally catching flies as they say. He reaches for the pitcher and pours me another glass. I reach forward to take a sip, but I finish the glass instead. “Cat got your tongue?” he asks, then doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “I’d rather do other things with your tongue, to be honest.”
“Is that so?” I finally say, this I can do. The flirty, sexy talk I can do. It’s the caring little things he does that I can’t do. I don’t want to do.
“That is,” he confirms, taking another sip of his water. The server comes over, and Stone reaches for the menus, ordering pretty much one of everything.
“So tell me, gorgeous.” His head gets closer to me as he whispers in my ear, “Did you have fun with yourself the other night?”
I throw my head back and laugh, giving him the opportunity to kiss my neck. “I always have fun with myself.” I pretend I don’t still feel his lips on my neck. “Don’t you have fun with yourself?”
“What did you think about?” he asks with a smirk. “Was it me?”