Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Landon?” That voice—even though I haven’t heard it in years—I would recognize it anywhere. Dropping my phone onto the table, I glance up and find the girl who stole my heart and never gave it back standing right in front of me. Only she’s no longer a girl, but a woman. Her brown hair is filled with honey-colored highlights, and her green eyes are wide with shock. Her body, no longer lanky and girly, is curvy in all the right places. A simple black dress hugs her hips and shows off her perky tits and toned, tanned legs.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
I should tell her I’m waiting for my date, but I’m too mesmerized by the sight of her to think properly. I glance around, waiting for her husband to appear, when she asks, “Are you my date?”
Her date? No fucking way. That would be crazy. But is it possible?
“Maybe… Did Simon set you up?” I ask, mentally crossing my fingers. What are the odds of being set up on a date with her of all people?
“He did.” Her lips curl into a gorgeous fucking smile, and my heart takes off on a sprint. Harper’s the only girl to ever have the ability to affect me like this.
“What happened with you and Richie?” I ask, confused as hell. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy as fuck for Harper to be my blind date, but the last I heard, she was engaged to marry Richie. After she destroyed my heart, and I damn near destroyed my future, I cut all ties with her. She had already blocked me on social media and on her phone, so it made it easy for me to walk away and let her go. Well, not easy, but it left me no choice…
“Good evening, I’m Bree and I’ll be your waitress this evening.” The waitress looks from me to Harper, who’s still standing, as she places two glasses of water in front of us.
“Please, sit.” I stand and walk around the table so I can pull Harper’s chair out for her. She thanks me and steps in front of the chair. As I push it in, I catch a whiff of her scent. I can’t help but inhale deeper, taking it in. All these years later and she still smells the same. Both my heart and dick approve.
“Landon?” she asks, glancing back.
I clear my throat so I can speak. “Sorry, it’s just… you smell the same.”
Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “What do I smell like?”
Perfection. “Strawberries and vanilla.”
“I still use the same shampoo and lotion,” she admits with a shy smile. “They’re my favorites.”
“Mine too,” I agree as I have a seat across from her.
The waitress smirks at me, telling me she heard our little conversation, but I don’t give a shit. Harper is here. In the same restaurant as me. I have no idea what the hell to think or feel right now.
“What can I get you to drink?” Bree asks, handing us each a cocktail menu. “The watermelon martini is our seasonal drink.”
“I’m okay with water,” I tell her.
“A glass of white wine would be great,” Harper says. “Whatever you have in-house.” She grabs her napkin from atop the table, shakes it out, and places it into her lap. But as she’s situating herself, she must accidently grab a piece of the tablecloth, because it pulls toward her and everything on the table topples over, including our waters. Hers goes sideways, but mine tumbles into my lap. I jump up as the freezing cold liquid drenches the front of my slacks.
“Whoa, cold.” As I try to shake it off, I laugh, remembering how clumsy Harper was when we were in high school. Apparently she hasn’t changed in that aspect either.
Harper jumps up, and with the napkin from her lap, starts dabbing where the water landed… right on my crotch, which should be experiencing major shrinkage from the cold as fuck water, but is quickly forming a bulge in my pants from her touch.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, frantically patting along my front.
Needing her to stop touching me before my bulge turns into a full-on hard-on, I grab her wrist. “I got it,” I say with a laugh.
She groans and shakes her head. “I’m such a klutz,” she says, which gets my attention because her tone isn’t filled with laughter like it should be. She’s actually putting herself down.
“Hey.” I take her chin between my fingers and look into her eyes, which are filled with unshed tears. Why the fuck does she look like she’s about to cry over some water being spilled? “It’s okay. It’s been unseasonably hot this time of year. I could use a good cooling down.” I wink playfully, earning me a half-smile.
The waitress, not even bothering to deal with the spilled drinks, offers to sit us at a new table, and since Harper is too upset to say anything, I thank her. This table is tucked into a corner, so we sit diagonal from each other. We’re close enough that I could reach over and touch her, but I don’t. I stare at Harper for a long moment, still shocked that after all these years I’m on a fucking date with her.