Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 20081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
“You’re beautiful. They’re not used to being around famous people.” He pulls the menu out, but I can tell he’s not really looking at it. He’s uncomfortable with the attention.
I push the menu down so I can see his face. “That’s not it. I’m a plus size model and definitely not famous.”
He harumphs as if he doesn’t like me talking bad about myself. “You’re not plus size. And trust me, you’re famous in Whiskey Run obviously. No one else gets this reaction.”
He takes the menu and sets it aside. I should stop, but something’s not adding up. “I’m a size twelve. That’s definitely plus size for modeling. I was in here earlier when I was trying to find you, and no one stared at me like they are now. What’s up? What are you hiding? Are you married or something? Is a girlfriend or wife going to show up here and be ticked off?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Really? I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend, and if I did I definitely wouldn’t be here... having dinner with you... even if we are just friends. And second of all, you’re a model... they’re no doubt wondering what the hell you’re doing here with me.”
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask him.
He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can get the words out, the waitress from earlier is standing beside our table. “Hey, Tate.”
“Hey,” he says to her but keeps looking at me. “Are you ready to order?” he asks me.
“Yeah.” I look up at the snarky waitress. “I’ll take a grilled chicken salad. No cheese or croutons with salsa for the dressing and please put it on the side.... oh, and a water to drink, please.”
“That’s all you’re going to eat?”
I blush. “Yes, and a bite of your cake.”
“What about you? The usual?” she asks Tate. And I don’t know, but it bothers me that this woman would know his “usual.” I reach across the table and lay my hand over his and squeeze. He’s looking at our hands. My smaller one on his bigger one. The differences are there, and I know he’s noticing them, but somehow I have to show him I don’t care about those differences. All I care about is how he makes me feel.... that’s what I don’t want to let go of.
He clears his throat. “I’ll take a burger and double fries. Also, a slice of the apple cinnamon Blaze cake.”
“And to drink?”
“Water for me too.”
As soon as she walks away, I gesture to our hands. “Does that bother you?”
His eyes meet mine. “You know it’s going to be all over town that you’re holding my hand.” He nods his head at the departing waitress. “Kelly is sort of a gossip.”
I just smile. “Oh, okay, well I should probably tell you then that earlier when I met her, I told her I wanted to sleep with you.”
Tate
My mouth drops, and my cock flexes in my jeans. Did I just hear her right? “What?” I shake my head. Surely not. “What did you say?”
Kelly returns and sets our waters on the table. Lakelyn looks up at her and smiles. “I told Kelly I wanted to sleep with you. I hope that’s okay.”
Kelly makes a sound of disgust and walks away, but I don’t care, I can only look at Lakelyn. “Uh...”
She interrupts me. “I mean, that was before I knew you wanted to be just friends, but I thought I should at least let you know. 'Specially since you said she’s a gossip and all.”
She winks at me and then picks up the glass and takes a sip of water. I can’t take my eyes off her lips when she lowers the glass and sticks her tongue out to catch the moisture left behind.
Her lips are so kissable that’s all I can think about now.
“You okay?” she asks with a knowing smile.
“Yeah... I’m good.” Speechless, but good. “How did you get into modeling?”
“My mom, actually. She pushed me into pageants when I was young, and when I started winning, I just stuck with it.”
“But?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Well, it’s not something I thought I’d be doing and, well, now I’m getting too old, so I’ll have to find another career soon.”
“Too old? You’re not old.”
She laughs bitterly. “In the modeling world, I’m ancient.” She looks around the room and leans in. “I’m twenty-four.”
I gasp like she just said something outrageous. In a stage whisper, I say. “Oh my God, twenty-four, you’ll be ready for a walker soon.”
She laughs and smacks my arm. “Whatever. I know it sounds crazy.”
I nod. “It does. So what do you want to do?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Growing up, I always loved working with my dad. I like working with my hands. I’ll figure it out. I’ll have to soon, for sure.”