Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Who was he?”
I hesitate. But I’ve told her this much already, no reason to stop now. “He was a thirty-year-old businessman traveling through the city.”
Her jaw drops.
“It wasn’t rape. Well, legally it was, but my grandmother was okay with it. She told him she was nineteen.”
“Did he know he had a daughter from her?”
“Nope. He was in and out of her life pretty quickly, and she had no way to find him. Not even a last name.”
Mary shakes her head. “My God, what a story.”
It is. Though I haven’t thought about it in a while. Anyone who meets my grandmother would never think she had such a difficult past.
“And your parents?” Mary asks.
“They’re still in Glasgow. I doubt my father will ever leave Scotland again. He agreed to move over to the States when my mother got pregnant with me. She wanted to raise me here. Then, when I decided to go to school in Scotland after I graduated high school, the entire family moved back.”
“So you’re an only child?”
“Guilty.”
Her face falls into something akin to pity. “Was it lonely growing up?”
I swallow the bite of pizza I’m chewing. “Not at all. When your grandmother runs a Creole restaurant—one of the most popular in the city—there’s always someone around to talk to.”
“So you spent a lot of time with her there?” Mary takes a drink.
“I practically lived there. My father was always off on business, doing something or another, and my mother accompanied him a lot, which left me in Mémé’s care.”
“May may?”
I wipe my lips with my napkin. “Creole French. It’s like calling your grandmother Nana.”
“You speak French, then?”
“Somewhat. Do you?”
She blushes. “I’m afraid not. I remember a little bit of high school Spanish, but that’s about it.”
“That’s a shame. French is a beautiful language. The language of love, mo leannan.”
Her cheeks redden further.
I’m not sure why I keep calling her that. I’ve never called anyone mo leannan. I’ve never looked for love, not in the way most people do. Keira and I were together for five years in Glasgow. We were in the lifestyle there, at an exclusive club, but then she decided she wanted more than I could give her.
She wanted marriage, family, children.
I’m not cut out for that.
Not even slightly.
I swallow another bite of pizza and bring my thoughts back to the beautiful woman sitting across from me. She’s what I need to focus on. Not the past or even the future. Just right now, in this moment, with her.
And all the possibilities arising between us.
Chapter Six
Mary
Is this a date? I’m trying to think about the last time I was on a date with someone. Not since Lucas, who introduced me to this lifestyle.
I’ve been rethinking the lifestyle after the episode with Jack. It affected me more than I thought it would.
He wasn’t the first man to draw blood during a scene without meaning to, but there was something about his lack of emotion during the scene that hit me hard. It got me thinking that maybe—just maybe—I need more than what I’ve been content with for so long.
Maybe I don’t want to submit anymore. Maybe I want a more equal relationship in the bedroom.
Which doesn’t explain why I’m sitting across from this gorgeous Scotsman. He exudes dominance.
He would’ve taken me back to a room in the club tonight if I’d allowed it. He said as much.
And boy… A couple months ago, I would’ve jumped at the chance.
I haven’t been this attracted to—or this aroused by—someone in a long time.
Brenda must think I’ve completely lost it.
God, Brenda…
I know she said she was okay, but I feel terrible about leaving her there in the club alone. She’s well known there, and everyone knows she’s Dalton’s sub—she’s been wearing his collar forever—so no one will harm her. The club is about as safe a place as she can be.
Still, I feel bad.
“Would you excuse me a minute?” I say to Ronan.
“Sure.” He wipes his chin.
I rise and quickly walk to the tiny restroom behind the counter. Then I grab my phone to text Brenda but remember she won’t have her phone if she’s still at the club.
She must have left already, though, because there’s a text from her.
Brenda: How’s it going with the Highlander? (Lots of hearts)
Me: We’re having pizza at Gianni’s.
Brenda: Are you going to take him home with you?
Me: Absolutely not. You know I don’t do things like that.
Brenda: Yeah, I know. You can always take him back to the club if you change your mind.
Me: When did you leave?
Brenda: About a half hour after you did. I’m in a cab on the way home now.
Me: When does Dalton get back?
Brenda: A few days.
Me: Okay. See you at the gym tomorrow.
She texts back a thumbs-up.
Brenda and I have a standing date at ten o’clock every Saturday morning for the gym. We exercise for a few minutes and then spend the rest of the time chatting over smoothies in the small cafeteria.