Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Not on your life.” He scrunches up his nose. “You were right. A neurosurgeon who looks like Barbie is overkill . . . even for me.”
As if running from a crime scene, we rush to his car. He opens the door for me, and I climb in. He dives into the driver’s seat. “Now . . .” He starts the car. “Where are we going for dessert?”
Twenty minutes later, on the other side of the city, Blake pulls into a covered parking lot.
“What is this place?” I frown.
“The best-kept secret in town,” he replies.
“What if we run into them?” I look around guiltily.
“Then we run into them. Who gives a fuck?”
“I do.”
“Look.” He turns the car off. “We both know they’re going to be too busy high-fiving all night to look for us.”
I get the giggles as I imagine the scenario. “Poor Ruby.” I open the car door.
“Yep.” He winces as he gets out of the car. “I do kind of feel bad leaving her with that dweeb.”
“Oh.” Disappointment fills me as I realize how selfish I’ve been. “I’m sorry. I ruined your date, didn’t I?”
“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “The fact that as soon as I had an out, I took it is a good indication of where the date was going anyway.” He picks up my hand and links it through his arm as we walk along. We are on a busy street full of restaurants and bars.
“How come you don’t like her? She’s, like . . .” I try to search for the right analogy. “Perfect.”
He twists his lips as if unimpressed. “I don’t know. On paper, she’s perfect. I just don’t feel it.”
“Feel what?” I stare up at him.
“Anything.” He shrugs again. “Baffles me, too, don’t worry.”
“Oh.” I have an epiphany. “You don’t like her because she’s a woman who you could actually fall for.”
He thinks on it.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I ask.
“I honestly don’t know.” He pushes through heavy dark wooden doors, and we arrive in the coolest place I have ever been. It’s dark and moody with a mix of big velvet couches and cute little tables for two. It has huge pendant lights and a marble bar. Music is playing, and the crowd is eclectic.
“What is this place?” I gasp in wonder.
“Bruno’s, my favorite dessert bar.”
“This is a dessert bar?” My eyes widen in astonishment as I look around.
“Only the best for my champion pole vaulter.” He throws me a playful wink.
I get the giggles. “Where the hell do you come up with this shit?”
“Can I help you, sir?” the waiter interrupts us.
“Table for two, please.”
“This way, sir.” We follow him through the restaurant, and he holds his hand out to a low table in a bay window that faces the street. “How is this?”
“That’s great.” Blake smiles. He pulls out my chair, and I sit down. There are colorful pansy flowers in window boxes on the outside of the bay window, and two long white candles are in silver candlesticks in the center of the table. The waiter hands us two menus. “Can I get you any drinks to start?”
“I’ll have an Irish coffee,” Blake says.
My eyes flick up to him. “What’s that?”
“Coffee with a nip of alcohol. Trust me, it’s good.”
“Make that two, please.” I smile. The waiter leaves us alone, and I open the menu to see rows and rows of dessert. I begin to read down the list.
Chocolate fondant
Raspberry cheesecake
Caramel ganache
Hummingbird cake
Tiramisu
“Oh my god.” I begin to salivate at the choices. “This place is so cool.”
“A personal favorite.”
I glance up at him. “How many times have you been here?”
“A lot.”
“Is this where you bring your dates at the end of the night to seal the deal?”
He gives me a slow, sexy smile but doesn’t answer.
“So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a”—he gestures to the menu—“make a choice.”
The waiter arrives with our drinks. They are in huge glass steins and have froth on the top, and the coffee is layered in colors in the glass. “Oh wow,” I gush. “Thank you.”
“Would you like some dessert tonight?” the waiter asks.
“Um . . .” I quickly peruse the choices. “There’s just so much to choose from. I’ll have the white chocolate cheesecake, please.”
Blake smiles as he watches me.
“And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have the chocolate fondue and strawberries for two.”
The waiter smiles. “Excellent choice, sir.” He disappears out the back.
“I still can’t believe tonight happened.” I sip my hot drink. “Oh, yum, this is delicious.”
“Told you.” He sips his too. “I don’t trust that Herman.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that he said Don’t you believe me?”
“What do you mean?” I blow on my drink to try and cool it down.
“Think about it. If you’re telling someone a story about where you work, the last thing you would ask is if they believe you. It wouldn’t even cross your mind to say that unless you were lying about it.”