Loving the Scot Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
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I smile at that. “Well, you don’t have to stand on ceremony with me,” I say. How refreshing it is to find a woman who isn’t trying to be someone else – to be cool, to be some kind of influencer, to be unobtainable.

She is just herself, awkwardness and all. She isn’t afraid to admit it. “In fact, don’t hold back with me at all. Trust me. I won’t find you rude. Or strange, or uncool, or whatever else you might think.”

She smiles and lays her phone down, picture taken. “You know, it’s strange, but I really believe you,” she says.

“You’d better,” I joke back, taking the first bite of the food.

Alana follows suit, and almost immediately, her eyes roll back in her head, and she moans in delight.

“It’s even better than it looks!”

“Yes,” I mutter, smiling as I feast on her with my eyes. “It is.”

We devour the starter, small as it is, and then by magic, Tom reappears – he has a knack for knowing when the guests will be done. That, or he has a way of spying on the dining room – I have never been able to tell.

Whatever the case is, he brings out two main courses and plates piled high with well-made food in rich flavors.

“Don’t forget to leave room for dessert,” I warn as we pick up our cutlery again. “It’s a mistake I’ve made many times with Tom’s food. You’ll be sorry if you do – the dessert is always the best.”

“Noted,” Alana says, but her eyes are wide again as she takes in the impressive plate full of highland flavors. “Though I don’t know how I’m going to hold back.”

I stifle a grin, she has no idea how much it sounds like she’s talking about me and the desire I feel for her.

“At my age,” I say because I’m desperate to raise the age gap again and make sure that she is fine with it. “You have to be careful of what you eat. Of course, I’ll regret all this next week when I’m running at five in the morning to make up for it, but it feels worth it right now.”

“You get up to run that early?” Alana mutters with a horrified face. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been up that early.

“I mean, aside from long travel days, when I know I have to be up and out early to catch a plane or get in the car for the rest of the day. But even then, I can take a nap while I’m on the move.

“Well, you’re still young,” I chuckle, further driving the point home.

“Not that young,” she says. “I bet it feels like it wasn’t so long ago you were my age.”

I tilt my head at that. In some ways, she’s right. There is a lot of water under the bridge since that time in my life. Sometimes I forget that. Sometimes, I still feel like I did in my twenties, and it’s a bit of a shock to remember that I’m not.

“You’re right, I suppose,” I say, taking a sip of my wine. She has no problem with our age gap, clearly. That’s one thing I’m glad to get out of the way. “So? What do you think of this one?”

Alana rolls her eyes and makes a muffled sound through the bite she’s eating. She swallows and shakes her head. “I’m going to lure your chef to the States so that I can eat this every day.”

“Please don’t – I need him,” I laugh and then think I might as well toss another idea into the ring. “Besides, you don’t have to take him. While you’re here, you can eat his food.”

“But I’m only here until the end of the week,” she says, making a pouting face.

“So far,” I say casually, looking at my plate on purpose so she won’t think I’m pressuring her in any way.

But when I look up casually a moment later, I catch her looking down at her own food with something like hope on her face.

Our conversation flows easily, and the food goes down well as it always does, but this is only the starter course for me.

The real main course is coming up later, and I can barely wait to get started. Unfortunately, I find myself wolfing down the food too fast, eventually setting my knife and fork aside when I’m only two-thirds of the way through the plate to make myself stop.

I need room for dessert.

But more than that, I need room to be fit and athletic.

I have a feeling I’m going to need some stamina tonight. Of course, a bit of lean meat will help with that, but filling up on everything else would be a mistake.

At my age – as I put it earlier – I know that a full stomach will be a mood killer. But, for her, it’s probably better. She is young and fit alright.


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