Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Mr. Locke, thank you for dining with us tonight,” the host says. “I’m actually the owner here, and I’m a big Coyotes fan. Please let us know if there’s anything at all you need.”
“Thanks, man.” Dom shakes his hand. “I’ve heard great things about your restaurant.”
The owner looks thrilled. He leads us to a private table in a back room, the lighting dim. It even has curtains to give us total privacy when no one’s serving the table.
“May I start you with a bottle of wine?” the owner asks.
“That’d be great.” Dom meets my gaze across the table. “Do you like red or white?”
Ha. When I occasionally buy a bottle of wine, it’s less than ten dollars. And that only happens like twice a year, when Cam and I are celebrating something like her making the dean’s list or getting all caught up on our water bill.
“Red,” I say for simplicity’s sake.
“Very good, ma’am,” the owner says. “I have some fantastic options for you.”
“You choose,” Dom says. “I trust your recommendation.”
The owner’s expression is almost comical—like Dom just offered to jerk him off or something.
“Of course, sir.”
As soon as he’s gone, I lock eyes with Dom across the table. “Hey, he could bring back a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of wine. I know you make a lot of money, but you don’t need to spend it to impress me. I’m impressed with you because you’re you.”
He takes my hand across the table, his gaze warm on me. “I know, and I feel the same way about you. But this is our first date. It’s a special occasion.”
“You didn’t think the hot dogs and tots eaten at my kitchen counter felt like a date?” I tease.
“I loved it every bit as much as this because I was with you.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on. The tots weren’t even crispy.”
“I liked them.”
“You have me on a pedestal. I’m worried I’ll come crashing down at some point.”
He strokes his thumb over my knuckles. “Or not. My parents have been crazy in love for more than thirty-five years.”
The restaurant owner returns with a bottle of wine, a sommelier accompanying him. The sommelier makes a big production of offering Dom the cork to sniff and swirling the wine around in our glasses before giving them to us.
“At home, I just unscrew the cap,” I crack as I raise the glass to my lips.
I take a sip, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted. It’s a medley of different flavors, none of which I can identify, but all of which are incredible.
“That’s delicious. Wow. What do you think?”
“Yeah, I like it.”
I quirk a brow at him. “Do you even drink wine?”
“Occasionally. Usually, I’m more of a beer guy, but the older I get, the harder the hangovers hit.”
I like the way pieces of his dark hair sometimes break free of their style, hanging over his forehead just past his brows. He has great hair—thick and dark and perfectly straight.
“Tell me something about you,” I say. “Anything.”
“Okay, let’s see...I could have gotten a full ride to college playing baseball, but I wanted to play hockey instead. I was good at hockey, but it was my college coach who made me great enough to go pro.”
“Baseball? I can see you as a baseball player. Bet you looked great in your uniform.”
He shrugs, a grin tugging at his lips. “I did.”
We just look at each other for at least a full minute, something thick and unspoken charging the air between us. Everything about this is better than dating as a teenager. The waiting and wanting with Dom are more sensual than the actual sex with my ex.
I’m halfway through my glass of wine, buttering a piece of bread when my phone rings inside my purse. When I see Cam’s name on the screen, I frown and lock eyes with Dom.
“Sorry, it’s Cam. I have to answer.”
He waves a hand. “It’s fine.”
“Hey,” I say softly in answer.
“Tess. He was here. He was inside our house.”
Her voice is taut with emotion, nearly frantic. I don’t even need to ask who she means—it was that asshole Jake.
I grab my purse and slide out of my side of the booth, my heart racing so fast I’m light-headed. “Is everyone okay? I’m on my way.”
“We’re all okay. Get here as fast as you can.”
I run through the restaurant, not even remembering Dom until I get outside and spin around frantically. How will I get home? It’s too far to run.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dom races outside the restaurant’s front door and joins me.
“I have to get home.” I’m almost in tears. “Take me home.”
He digs for his keys in his pocket and we take off toward the car. I stop to take off the heels because they’re slowing me down.
Once we’re both inside the car and he’s pulling out of his parking place, my emotions spill out through my mouth.