Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
"Oh, thanks." I clear my throat. "Ready?"
She nods, steps into the hallway, and locks her door.
We drive to Valentino's. Yes, really! It’s close enough, and the night is clear. Cold, but not unbearable. She chatters the whole way, nervous energy spilling out in words.
I don't mind. I like her voice … and her jumbled thoughts.
"I can't believe you actually knocked on my door. I was so sure you'd either ignore the card completely or report me to the building manager for harassment. I almost didn't hear the door. I was gonna ignore it and pretend I wasn't home, but then I thought what if it's important, what if there's a fire or something, and everyone except me is accounted for, so I peeked through the peephole and saw you walking away and just panicked and—"
"I'm glad you opened it."
"Really?"
"Really."
The restaurant is small and intimate. Candles on tables, soft jazz music, smells like garlic and tomato sauce. Valentine's Day crowd, but not overwhelming. I reserved yesterday morning after Emily said ‘yes’, and used some connections to get a table.
We're seated in a corner, two-top. A small vase with a single red rose between us. White tablecloth. Wine glasses. A basket of warm bread. The works.
She's nervous at first, unfolding and refolding her napkin, apologizing for the card, again.
"Em, stop apologizing."
"Sorry. I mean, okay."
"I liked it."
She grabs a piece of bread and tears it in half. "You did?” She cocks her head sideways and looks quizzically at me with a slight squint. “Really?” Like an endearing puppy.
"Yeah. Writing that takes a lot of guts."
"Or a lot of alcohol." She takes a bite and moans, the sound going straight to my cock. Shit. "Um, so, you were in the military, right? I've seen you in uniform a couple times."
I nod. "Army Ranger. Twelve years."
"Wow. That's ... a long time. Did you just get out?"
"Four months ago. I'm taking a break before starting with a security firm."
"That's good. The break, I mean. You've earned it, I'm sure."
I shrug and don't elaborate on the dark parts. My therapist actually suggested the break because I was showing signs of burnout. But Emily doesn't need to know that right now.
These are not things you say on a first date … at least not if you’re aiming for a repeat.
"What about you? The flower shop. ‘Not Dead Yet’, right? Name sounds a bit macabre."
Her face lights up, and she laughs. A full laugh. “You know where I work?"
I've walked by it. Multiple times. Deliberately. Trying desperately to get a glimpse of her. But again, not first date talk material. "The logo on your shirts. I kind of assumed, especially when I saw the shop."
"Oh, right. Yes, ‘Not Dead Yet’. Andrea, the owner, has quite a sense of humor. I've been there two years now." She pauses and dips the bread. "My parents think it's a waste of my potential. They wanted me to be ... I don't know, something impressive. Lawyer. Doctor. You know? But I love what I do, and I like the people I work with."
"That's what matters."
She smiles softly. "Most people tell me I should go back to school."
"I'm not most people. Besides, life's too short to do something that doesn't make you happy."
"Is that your life motto?"
"No. I saw that sticker on Roberta's cane."
Emily lets out an unladylike snort, and I chuckle.
Her hand rests beside mine on the tablecloth, a few inches separating us. Throughout the meal, those inches shrink. My pinkie grazes hers at one point. She doesn't pull back, and neither do I.
But even that small contact fries my brain, and my body responds as though it's foreplay.
"Roberta thinks you're terrifying, you know. She crosses herself every time you walk by, even if it's to help her."
"Roberta needs better hobbies."
"Her dog hates you."
"That dog hates everyone, much like your cat."
"Excuse me, Alex, but Croissant just acts like every cat does."
"How do you even sleep beside that? I’d feel like I'd wake up with its claws buried in my cheeks."
She laughs again, and this time she touches my arm briefly. The contact burns through my shirt. "Croissant can be very sweet when he feels like it."
"The scratches on your arm say otherwise."
Emily smiles and traces the rim of her wine glass with a finger. "You know, for someone with a reputation for being terrifying, you're surprisingly ... not terrible at conversation."
"Low bar, but I'll take it. If Roberta finds me terrifying, imagine if I start cracking jokes at her."
"I'm serious. I expected grunts and glaring."
"Night's not over."
She grins. "See? You're pretty funny."
"Please don't tell anyone that. I happen to like my terrifying reputation. It keeps people away."
Halfway through dinner, she admits something that catches me completely off guard. "You know, I have a little confession. I time my morning coffee to see you running."