Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
She smiled and nodded her head. “I’d like that. I’d like to go out.”
“You’re not a Fallen Hard Boy girl.”
“What?”
“Aunt Betty. Apparently, there’s some kind of label. I don’t want you to think you are.”
“I’ve never heard that one, but I guess you can tell me all about it. You can pick me up tomorrow night at seven.” She stepped out, and he put his hands on her waist, holding her. “You took your time, James Hard.” She kissed his lips. It wasn’t passionate, but it made him ache for more. “Tomorrow night.”
****
“Tell me. Do I look like a slut?” Eliza asked, holding her arms out for her aunt to look.
“Why would you look like a slut?” Aunt Betty pushed her spoon back into the ice cream and smiled.
“The red? Is it too much?”
It was a dinner dress, at least that was what it said on the label. It wasn’t overly expensive, so she’d picked it up, hoping it would suit their date. She had no idea what James had planned but could only hope it was fun and, well, in a restaurant. There was a small Italian place in town, and she loved pasta. She hadn’t eaten since lunch and was starving.
“You look stunning.”
“I don’t look fat?” She’d always been a bigger woman. Full hips, rounded stomach, and large thighs. She had big tits as well. She ran her hands down her hips.
“No, you don’t look fat at all. You look stunning and I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need to clean up drool when James sees you.”
“I don’t know about this. It’s like prom all over again.”
“Only you’re going out on a date rather than eating ice cream with me.”
“You don’t think I’m acting rashly?”
“No, I think you’re a young woman who’s having some fun. You don’t know where this is going to go.”
“He’s a Hard boy, though.”
“Yeah, and his parents are happily married so there’s a chance it could happen for you as well.”
She didn’t know. She had doubts.
The doorbell rang.
“I feel sick.”
“Here, eat some ice cream.” Aunt Betty held out the spoon and she leaned forward so she didn’t get it down her dress.
She swallowed the velvety chocolate ice cream and closed her eyes, moaning. “So good.” She licked her lips and the spoon clean before rushing to the front door. Opening the door, she was a little shocked. James stood there in a suit, looking nothing like the DIY man she’d come to recognize. Jeans and a shirt did wonders, but the suit, it was new.
“Wow,” they both said in unison.
“I’ll add, wow, you both look amazing. I knew you would, but now I can see it for myself.”
“You look stunning,” James said.
“You clean up nicely as well.”
They stood staring at each other.
“I’m not going to wait up,” Aunt Betty said.
Eliza quickly hugged her aunt and left with James, who held his arm out for her.
“I booked us a table at the Italian place,” he said.
“It sounds perfect.” The Italian place had a name but she didn’t know what it was off the top of her head. She had only known it as the “Italian place” since her aunt called it that as well.
He walked her to his truck and held the door open for her. She slid inside, being careful of the dress. She waited. Her heart pounded as he climbed behind the wheel.
Neither of them spoke during the drive to the restaurant. There was parking around the back, and they walked together, hand-in-hand toward the door.
People milled around, and she caught sight of the shocked stares. “I think we’re going to be the talk of the town in no time.”
“I don’t care. Let’s give them something to talk about.”
Before she could guess his intention, he’d cupped her face and kissed her passionately. “Now they’ve got something to talk about.” He smiled at her before leading her through the door.
The scents of garlic, tomatoes, and herbs assailed her, making her stomach growl.
“I’m starving,” James said.
The maître d’ at the door showed them to their table, and James pushed him aside, not letting him help her into her chair.
They had a quiet table, just the two of them. The restaurant was full, and she saw a couple of men and women looking their way.
“We really do make quite a pair, don’t we?” she asked.
“Please don’t run away, but this is all I know. My brothers and I, we’re not known for making a big impression on the first date, or any date. This is the first time I’ve come to this restaurant. I did ask my parents. They said the food is good.”
“I’m the first date you’ve brought here?”
“Yes. You’re different, you’re special.”
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks warming.
“I’m sorry. It sounds like a corny pickup line, doesn’t it?”
“It’s fine. I kind of like it.”
“I … I don’t want to screw this up.”