Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
A million things run through my mind as I try to figure out how to respond. Deciding to keep it simple since we’ve both said a lot already . . .
Gigi – Can we start over?
Sean – Dinner?
Holy shit.
Gigi – I’d love to.
Chapter 13
SEAN
My eyes remain locked on the door as I sit at the bar of the nicest restaurant in town, feeling sick to my stomach. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. It’s my first date since Sara, and I’ve never been so nervous in my life.
I still can’t believe it’s even happening. When that text from Gigi came through, I must have sat there, dumbfounded, looking at the screen for ages trying to figure out what the hell to say.
The fact that she knows about Sara seems to make things easier. Maybe it will help her to understand why I’m so standoffish when it comes to this shit. I told her that I was broken, but she still agreed to go to dinner with me, so maybe I didn’t completely screw things up.
All I know is that right now, she’s giving me a second chance, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
I really like her, and that thought alone scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to screw this up with her. I have to do this right, especially when I have Georgie to think about. Though Gigi seems like the kind of woman who just gets it.
The restaurant door opens, and I hold my breath as a woman walks in, but realizing it’s not her, I exhale deeply, my heart thundering erratically in my chest. Shit, why the fuck am I being such a little bitch about this? I’m a grown-ass man. I can handle this.
I order a beer and force myself to relax. She’s just a woman. An amazing woman. A woman who has saved my child’s life and then brought her back to me when she wandered away, even though she thought I was a cheating prick at the time.
The idea that Gigi thought I was the kind of man to cheat on my wife nearly killed me. But I suppose I can’t hold it against her. She had only just met me, and the evidence was staring her in the face. How the hell was she supposed to know that my wife died? It’s not like I was forthcoming about the topic. But when the hell is it appropriate to tell a woman you like that your wife is dead?
The door opens again, and this time my heart stops. She’s fucking beautiful.
Gigi walks in wearing an oversized sweater that falls off her shoulder with a short black skirt barely visible beneath. Her toned legs peek out below, and I can’t help but follow them down to the knee-high boots that blow me the fuck away.
I stand, watching as her gaze scans the room and stops on mine, and the second they do, something fucking clutches my chest and refuses to let go. A beaming smile spreads over her face, and just like I knew with Sara, I fucking know now.
This woman is going to be my world.
Contentment settles through me, and the nerves instantly fade away, knowing that no matter what happens, this is going to be okay. I just hope she’s alright with slow.
She makes her way to me, and from the way her soft gaze drops and her cheeks flush, it’s perfectly clear that she’s nervous. She has every right to be. It’s not like we’ve had a normal start. “Hi,” she smiles.
I can’t help myself and step right into her, my hand on her waist as I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek. “How are you?” I ask, reluctantly pulling back as I offer her the seat beside mine and signal for the bartender to come take her order.
Her gaze lifts to mine, and my fingers itch to reach out to her again. “Honestly, I’m kind of freaking out,” she says.
“Don’t freak out,” I tell her, my gaze sailing over her again, determined not to fuck this up. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
Her cheeks flush, and I fucking love it. “Thank you,” she smiles. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
The bartender steps up in front of us, and I meet her stare. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Moscato please,” she says.
The bartender gets straight to it and quickly places her glass down in front of her, which she happily accepts. She takes a sip, tilting her chin up and showing off the beautiful column of her neck.
She really is radiant. With the Denver sunset shining through the window and hitting her back, I could almost swear she was wearing a halo.
The restaurant hostess appears beside us, and I watch as her eyes greedily travel up and down Gigi’s body with appreciation, and I can’t help but feel a kinship, because fuck . . . same. “Your table is ready,” she announces.