Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“Something like that.”
“Welp, you’re my friend, and you don’t seem like you’re going to kill me, so I’m one for one. How about you? Is your track record any good?”
“I’m finding the app can be useful.”
“I guess.” I reach for my untouched glass of wine, feeling flustered. He’s on a dating site. Doesn’t that mean he dates lots of other women? Now, I’m suddenly thinking of him comparing me to all the other women he’s been swiping. Oh, gosh. Swiping them this way and that way. That thought sours my mood.
I grab the glass of wine, wanting to take a healthy swig to try and calm my nerves. I know it’s a mistake the second my fingers graze the glass with too much force. I watch as the glass tips over. I swear it’s like it’s happening in slow motion. It sprays across the table and onto J. It rolls off the side of the table for good measure. I cringe, closing my eyes in anticipation, but the sound of shattering glass never comes.
When I peek one eye open, I see J has the empty wine glass in his hand. Two people rush over to clean up the mess I’ve made.
“Oops,” I whisper. I wish a hole would open up in the floor and swallow me.
He’s so fancy in his suit and talking about chef tables in the back, and I can’t manage to take a sip of wine that I’m betting was crazy expensive.
The date I thought was going so great starts to take a turn. In my head at least. My mind always gets the best of me. I play out the events of the rest of the night, realizing there probably won't be a second date. Or maybe there will be, but it would be a pity one. I know seeing him again will make me fall more for his sweet, handsome self, then he’ll crush my heart before I can literally crush him by accident.
It’s a romcom gone bad.
“I can’t do this.” Thankfully the two men trying to clean up the mess block J from my view. It gives me the chance I need to flee. I rush back toward the front of the restaurant, but a door suddenly swings open, colliding with my forehead.
I yelp as I start to fall backwards. Black spots dance in my eyes as I wait for my body to hit the floor. It never does. Instead, two arms catch me.
This J is rather quick with his hands is the last thing I think before I pass out.
four
JAY
“Sir?” The ever-competent Dax seems a bit stymied by Mila’s fainting. Me? I’m enjoying the feel of her body in my arms. I hitch her higher so that the precious dress she’s in doesn’t drag on the cement. A scent of something sweet like sugar and honey drifts across my nose. She smells like dessert, and I want to take a big bite of her.
“Time to get in that borrowed SUV,” I order.
“Should we take her back to the coffee shop?” he wonders.
“No.” She’s mine now.
“Her friend is looking for her,” he informs me. “The valet said she ran by wondering if anyone had seen a girl in a foofy dress.”
I tense at the idea of allowing her out of my arms. “She needs to lie down out of the heat, and I want a doctor to look at her.”
“My Carrie used to faint all the time when she was pregnant,” muses Dax.
Our eyes meet and then both fall on Mila’s stomach, which is masked by the mound of fabric from the skirt. Mila, pregnant with another man’s child? Fuck. What does it matter? Like I said, she’s mine now, and if she’s pregnant, that kid is mine, too.
“Let’s go. Send someone to find the friend and have her brought to me—"
A rock hits my back. “Let her go, you kidnapper! I’ve called the police,” a woman screams behind me.
I spin around while Dax leaps past me to grab the assailant.
“It’s the friend,” I call out. “Best be careful.”
“I am the friend, and you’d better release Mila! This is my birthday. She’s supposed to be on a date!”
None of these sentences go together, so I don’t try to make sense of them. Instead, I open the back of the SUV and slide Mila inside while Dax throws the friend over his shoulder. I hustle over to the doorman and hand him another bill. “You didn’t see anything,” I instruct.
The man looks at the wad of cash in his palm and gives me a salute of agreement. “Blind as a bat,” he affirms.
“I’ll drive,” I shout to Dax, who is struggling with his armful of woman. He nods and manages to shove the friend into the back along with Mila. He quickly slides in next to her, and I take off before he has the door closed.