She wasn’t. She’s not.
But…I did like the sound of her voice. Once she dropped the sultry tone and spoke naturally. Come to think of it, I could use a little reassurance right now that I’m not doing something stupid. Maybe she’s working the phone tonight? Should I…call her?
No, you idiot. A thirty-two-year-old man doesn’t call a girl looking for reassurance.
I drag a hand down the left side of my face—the undamaged side—and drop my fist to the table. Needing something to do with my hands, my fingers close around the silver handle of a teaspoon. I hold up the utensil and catch my reflection. Foggy though it is, there’s no way to miss the scars. Already tonight, I made the hostess go pale.
Who else am I going to terrorize today with my appearance?
A bell tinkles over the entrance and my thighs tense, the spoon slipping out of my hands. I let it settle in favor of clenching my fists and steeling myself.
Finally, I look up.
Against my will, my pulse starts to race in my veins.
Nah, that…that can’t be her.
Why is she looking directly at me? Did my hood slip?
I can’t seem to move my hand to fix it, because I’m reluctantly arrested by the girl who comes closer and closer to my table. She’s too gorgeous for words. The breath has been ripped clean out of my lungs. I struggle to take all of her in, even as I know I shouldn’t.
She’s young.
But she has the kind of beauty that demands to be marveled over.
I try with all my might to stop staring, but she’s looking right at me. There’s a flush on her cheeks, spreading along her fair complexion. Sandy blonde hair hangs in loose waves around her shoulders. My cock begins to stiffen when my gaze reaches hermouth and my whole body lurches, my knees pressing into the opposite bench, my loins straining.
Jesus, you have to calm down.
Your date is going to be here soon.
A violent shudder snakes through me when the girl stops at my table, her cinnamon scent reaching into my brain and blowing a fuse. She’s so close that my attention is drawn to her body, and I swallow an embarrassing sound over the way her jeans sit so low around her hips, showing off an expanse of her smooth belly. With all of my willpower, I bear down on the shocking lust between my thighs and stare resolutely at the table.
“Excuse me,” she murmurs. “Are you Barry?”
My muscles tighten reflexively. I know that voice.
It’s the girl on the phone. The nineteen-year-old.
“What are you doing here?” I say through stiff lips.
When the person coming to meet me was a nameless woman, I was nervous enough about being seen. Now that I knowshe’sgoing to see me? I’m a million times more tense. That’s when I notice she’s holding an overnight bag in her hands.
Does that mean…
That this outrageous beauty is going to be my date for the weekend?
No way. No, I need to leave. For one, she’s too young.
Two, I can’t subject her to that. To…me.
“Excuse me,” I growl, trying to slide out of the booth.
“No, wait.”
She drops her bag and shoots forward. At the same time, I reach the opening of the booth, and I’m about to turn and stand up. She plants her hands on my shoulders before I manage it, though, her green eyes betraying her distress—and I stop. I can’t move in the face of her worry. Her beauty. It paralyzes me.
“I know you’re mad at me,” she whispers. “I know you’re going to say I’m too young. But just hear me out, okay? Give me five minutes.” Something over my shoulder catches her eye. “Actually, give me more like twenty minutes. Those fries look good.”
