Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
It wasn’t that I was nervous. It was more that I just felt out of my depth. Dating wasn’t my forte, but it was much easier when you didn’t want to strip the guy naked in public and take shots off what I just knew would be deliciously hard abs. It would be much, much easier if he didn’t make me laugh so darn much, even by message. And the way he was so completely sure that I’d eventually say yes to dinner and that it didn’t seem to faze him that I’d kept him waiting as long as I had. It was annoying because he was so freaking attractive, and spending time with an attractive man wasn’t on my list of things to do while I was in London. And I had a long list.
“Here goes nothing,” I said out loud. I gripped the door handle and pulled with such force that it smashed into the wall, and the few tables nearest the door all turned to look at the lunatic who apparently didn’t know her own strength.
I grimaced. “Sorry,” I said. I immediately caught Dexter’s eye. He was grinning at me from a corner table on the far left of the room.
I couldn’t help smiling back, despite the fact he was probably laughing at my ridiculous entrance.
Awkwardly, I grunted at the hostess and pointed at Dexter. She let me make my own way over to our table.
He stood as I approached and leaned in to kiss me on both cheeks. I was getting used to the two-kiss thing, and managed not to accidentally turn it into a kiss on the mouth.
“So,” I said. “Fondue.”
“Finally, fondue,” he replied. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you,” I replied. Weird thing to say to a guy maybe, but I wasn’t about to get arrested by the truth police. He looked freaking phenomenal. Just the way he sat—arms stretched along the top of the booth, taking up as much space as possible, like he was the King of London—had my heart racing.
He chuckled. “Okay.”
I sat at the v-shaped booth, him on one side, me on the other, our knees almost touching.
“So, what’s good?” I asked, picking up the menu.
“I heard the cheese is amazing.”
I laughed. “Well if it’s not, I’m off. I’m all about the cheese.”
“Don’t I know it. I think if I’d suggested any other type of place, I’d have got a hard no. It was difficult enough to get you to say yes to cheese.”
He was looking at me like he knew I thought he was as hot as Hades but was happy to play along with my I’m-not-that-into-you routine. And gosh-darn it, that just made him all the more attractive. No doubt he’d gotten more female attention than he would know what to do with his whole life, yet here he was. With me.
“Yeah, well, I’m not in London for the guys.” Although it would be the place to come.
“Certainly not. You’re clearly here for the cheese.” He beckoned the waitress over, and after checking with me, ordered fondue and wine.
I wasn’t sure if it was just that he was supremely confident or whether he was just the first grown-up man I’d ever gone on a date with, but tonight felt different from any date I’d had before. “I’ve never had a date order for me,” I said, tearing a piece of bread from the board in front of us. I wondered if Autumn would approve or think he was an overbearing jerk.
“Do you mind? I know you don’t like me giving your address to my driver.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t think I do. I mean, you checked with me first. If you hadn’t, I think it would have been weird.”
“Given we’ve only met twice before.”
“Right,” I said. “But I kinda liked it, and I figured maybe you majored in hot cheese at college or something.”
“What a relief.” He smiled as if it wasn’t a relief at all. As if he’d known all along that I’d like it. That it would make me feel looked after. Special. “I like that I get to hear your inside thoughts. On the outside.”
I swallowed down my bread. Was that the British equivalent of “bless your heart?” Was it meant to sound like a compliment but was actually a ginormous put down? “What do you mean?”
“You’re open. Direct. Say what’s on your mind. And I get it in real time as you’re thinking it.”
Hmmm, he was kinda right. The filter I had was in need of repair in places.
“Mostly,” he added. “I can’t wait to uncover the rest.” He raised his glass. “I’ve never worked so hard to get dinner with a woman. Let’s have a great evening and not worry too much about anything but cheese.”
It was as if the bits I was hiding, he had discovered anyway. He knew exactly what to say to put me at ease. And that was amazing and horrifying. Part of me had agreed to this dinner so I could get to know his flaws, find something irritating about him. This wasn’t going to go well if he just got more attractive.