Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
“You sure you can handle my two left feet?” I’m not joking at all. I’m utterly challenged in the coordination department.
“I can handle whatever you send my way,” he says with a grin, effortlessly sliding one hand to my waist while the other maintains our connection. “I’ll take care of you, little kitty.”
We start swaying to the music, and I almost melt into a puddle of goo when he spins me around, bringing me back into his arms with an ease that makes my pulse race. There’s something deeply intimate about feeling his muscular body holding mine close.
I feel the warmth of his hand through the material of my dress. We move fluidly across the patterned tiles, his fingertips brushing against my spine in a way that sends little sparks through my skin. It’s ridiculous how something as simple as dancing can evoke so much emotion in me, but then again, everything tonight seems charged with a special kind of magic.
“You went all out for our date,” I tease, trying to sound casual despite the emotional whirlpool coursing through me.
“I’d do anything to make you happy,” he says, twirling me again. The world spins in a blur of laughter and music, his words tingling somewhere deep in my chest. When he drags me even closer, I feel something very hard and really huge pressed against my stomach. Wow. The room fades away as I fall even further under the spell he’s weaving around me.
Eventually, the song winds down, bringing us to a slow stop. His gaze is warm, and for a moment, the world is still again, filled with unspoken promises.
“Time to head back?” I ask softly, almost as if I need permission to break this spell. He nods, guiding me back to where our dinner awaits.
I settle into my seat, feeling the connection during our dance and the ambiance leaving a permanent smile on my face. Our fancy meal is not just a feast for the taste buds but an experience in itself. Each course is presented artfully, from the seasonal salad to the gourmet entree, and ultimately to the show-stopping dessert—a molten chocolate lava cake that could probably summon a love sonnet from a hardened cynic.
As we eat, I take in every detail of this hidden gem we’re in. The speakeasy is intimate and aged beautifully, like it’s stuck in a time loop of the nineteen twenties, silently beckoning those who enter to leave the worries of the world behind. It feels exclusive, a secret waiting to be kept.
I notice the staff gliding around like shadows, efficient and almost invisible, making sure everything stays perfect. I can’t help but feel a little curious. I mean, why us? Why such privacy when a bustling venue above leaves room to get lost in the crowd?
Eventually, curiosity gets the better of me. “Tony, not that I’m complaining,” I start, taking a sip from my glass of wine, “but why are we the only people in here?”
He leans back, crossing his arms casually but with that ever-present hint of playfulness. “I wanted it to be just us,” he admits, his eyes meeting mine with that honesty that floors me again. “I own the bar and made sure the room was reserved for our private dinner.”
The revelation makes me blink a few times. Of course, the allure thickens. “You own Trick or Treat?” I ask, genuinely surprised, and maybe a tad impressed.
He nods, the light catching his dark eyes with that devil-may-care glint. “Yeah, bought the place when I moved here. I wanted something different, something with character.”
“Well, it definitely has character,” I agree, letting my gaze wander around a bit more. “It’s freaking awesome.”
Tony laughs, low and warm. “I’m glad you think so.”
I can’t help but smile at that, feeling something akin to admiration bubbling up inside me. He’s not just the mysterious bartender with devilishly good looks. My heart is telling me to jump in with both feet while my cautious mind is warning me to take things slowly.
“I think I need to know more about you.” I smile at him and push a bite of that decadent cake onto my fork.
“What do you want to know?” He sits back in his chair and stares into my eyes.
“What kind of job did you have in Las Vegas?” I start with the simple question, figuring we’ll move on to more personal questions later.
“That’s a long, complicated story.” He stares into my eyes, explaining, “In a nutshell, I had an extremely stressful, mentally challenging job, and I just got too old to deal with all the hassle. I decided to retire to this unique town and try my hand at bar ownership.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” I can tell he’s glossing over but I don’t care. This handsome man has woven a magical spell around me.