Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
She’s with me, and I couldn’t be happier. I try not to think about the fact that I’ve only known her a week because it feels like she’s been in my life for years. Zara just fits. Watching her walk around my house this morning, I could easily see her there, every day, helping me get the kids off to school. My only concern is Stormy, and how she’s going to feel once she finds out that Zara and I aren’t content with being just friends. The last thing I want to do is upset her, to make her feel uncomfortable around Zara, or to think I used her in any way whatsoever.
“Do you know what you want?” I ask, looking at her from over the top of my menu. Her hair is hidden under her knit beanie, something she was insistent upon doing before we left the house. Truth be told, I like her hair. I like the way it stands out against her creamy skin.
“I don’t know. What’s good?” she asks, taking a sip of her water.
“I’m a meat guy.” I found out quickly during breakfast that Zara rarely eats meat if she can help it. I admire her for sticking to her convictions and not giving in to the temptation of bacon that I was waving in her face this morning. “I’m going to go with the turkey club.”
She scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “Salad?”
Now I’m the one shaking my head. “Get something real. This isn’t our first date.” Of course, as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I realize that yes, this could be considered a date.
“Okay, how about I get a BLT minus the B, with a cup of soup?”
“Sounds good, and for you Mr. Austin?” the waitress says. I hadn’t heard her approach, but it seems that she was within earshot of Zara’s order. I tell her what I want and hand her the menus.
“Does everyone know you in town?”
I shrug and grimace. “Sort of, I guess. I mean it’s kind of hard not to, ya know?” Zara reaches across the table and fiddles with my fingers until I take her hand in mine. It feels damn good to be connected to her like this. “I’m willing to bet a few people know you too.” As the words tumble out, I fear that she’s going to let go of my hand. She doesn’t. Instead, she leans toward me with her lips somewhat puckered. I’d be a fool to not kiss her, but am also fearful of our surroundings.
The wrong brain takes over, and I find myself locking lips with the gorgeous woman across from me. The kiss is sweet, tender, and slightly erotic as she slips her tongue into my mouth and moans. She pulls back, all too soon for my liking, and has a wicked smile on her face.
“That was evil,” I tell her. “But I enjoyed it.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours. There’s no one around so I thought now would be a good time.”
I rub my thumb over the top of her knuckle while gazing into her eyes. I’ve never been one to keep eye contact for very long, but staring at Zara is like learning a new song. I can’t get enough, and I want more. Each and every day, I want more.
“You can kiss me anytime, darlin’.” This time I’m the one initiating, and she’s all too eager to meet me in the middle, except now I’m cupping her face and turning my head at such an angle that if anyone is looking, they see mostly my ball cap.
When we part, the smile that is spread across her wet lips is worth all the stares we’re likely getting from the staff. The door chimes, causing me to sit up straight. The group that walks in is young and looks like they should still be in high school. I pull my hat down a bit lower and try to avoid making eye contact.
It doesn’t work because one of the girls is walking toward us. “Sorry,” I mutter to Zara.
“It’s okay. If anyone gets it, I do.”
Maybe that is why we’ve connected so well because she understands this life, even if I don’t understand the magnitude of hers.
The teen girl approaches our table. I smile and prepare myself to answer all her questions, stand to pose for a picture, and give her whatever autographs she wants, as long as it’s done quickly so I can go back to Zara. But she’s not looking at me. She’s focused on Zara.
“You’re Zara Phillips, right?” the teen asks.
My eyes bug out at the mention of her name as Zara’s face goes even paler than she already is. I open my mouth to say something, but words escape me. It wasn’t moments ago that I told her I thought someone would know her, but I honestly never expected this to happen.