Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
And then all my thoughts stopped.
Dana stepped through the hospital doors looking like a bonafide angel. I could not imagine another human being on earth looking as lovely, as close to perfection as anyone had a right to be.
Sunshine was beyond.
She gave me a shy smile and walked across the parking lot towards me. Then her eyes shifted to the dropped down flap of the SUV. She stopped short when she saw the set up, her eyes wide.
“Too much?” I asked, trying not to sound worried. It was suddenly and painfully obvious that it was too much. Way too much. But I wasn’t surprised when she was too gracious to say so.
“No, not at all. This is… lovely.”
“You deserve the best,” I said firmly, pulling out a folding chair for her. She stared at the tablecloth and small mountain of to-go boxes full of food.
“Preference?” I asked, holding up the tea bags. She selected green tea, as predicted, and held it out for me. I stared at her dainty little fingers, supressing the urge to bite them.
I poured her a cup of tea and squeezed lemon into it without being asked.
“Thank you,” she said politely, looking surprised. “How did you know I liked it that way?”
“Lucky guess,” I said with a secretive smirk. “What are you in the mood for? Food wise?”
She sipped her tea daintily, careful not to burn those gorgeous lips of hers. Her big eyes stared at me, then at the mound of food I had brought.
“What do you have?”
“Everything,” I said, trying not to stare at her lips as she took another sip of her tea. I was jealous of a styrofoam cup. Really fucking jealous. But I was also ecstatic. She was really there. It had felt like torture to wait, not even knowing her name, but now she was right there. Inches away. Close enough to touch.
And dear fucking Christ, did I want to touch.
Not yet, Drake. But soon.
She gave me a cheeky look that melted my heart.
“That’s not actually possible. You know that, Drake.”
“Well, okay. Most of what they have at Mae’s,” I allowed, starting to sort through the to-go boxes. “I have a big salad with all the fixing… grilled chicken to put on top… or just a plain side salad… let’s see… couple of burgers. One medium rare, one medium well… still hot. This one has cheese. A veggie frittata… club sandwich on grilled rye. Egg salad with tomato, also on grilled rye. Couple of orders of french fries and milkshakes, all three flavors. Oh, and coffee, if you want that, too.”
She looked dumbfounded.
“What are you going to do with all that food?”
“I thought maybe some of your friends would want it,” I offered. “Or I could take it to the club house.”
“Club house?”
This was it. I stated the facts calmly, more than a little bit aware this might mean the end of the date. I said it as casually as possible, praying she didn’t run for the hills.
“Yeah. I’m in the club. Sons of Satan.”
“The big motorcycle club?”
“Yes,” I said, meeting her eyes.
“Oh,” was al she said.
I watched her face closely. I was worried she might flinch. But she just looked unsure. A little stunned. Not horrified.
I felt an insane amount of tension leave my body.
The club was not a deal breaker for Dana. I wanted to shout it to the heavens. I wanted to text the guys.
But I didn’t. Because I was staring at the most beautiful girl in the world, trying not to drool. That probably wouldn’t go over too well.
Hell, she was a nurse. She’d probably ask if I had overactive salivary glands. ‘Only around you, sweetheart’, I would reply.
“Okay,” she said, and that was that. She looked back at the spread. “Thank you for doing all this.”
“I’d do it every night, if you let me.”
She just stared at me, clearly on the fence about whether I was a crazy man or not. To be honest, the jury was definitely still out on that one.
“So, what would you like?”
“The frittata sounds amazing. Maybe half of the club?”
“I’ll split it with you.”
She smiled shyly as I doled out the food. We ate in companionable silence. It felt comfortable. I tried not to stare and failed.
She caught me looking at her and blushed. We talked a little. But mostly we ate while I stole glances at her and she looked like a pretty little bird, not quite sure yet if she should still still or take flight.
Thankfully, she didn’t run away or rush back into the hospital. She even picked a milkshake and sipped at it, suddenly looking like a gorgeous young girl on a date with the quarterback. But we both knew good and well that I wasn’t a quarterback. Hell, I had spent games under the bleachers, or more likely in a garage somewhere fiddling with an engine. Or in a bar, drinking with grizzled old dudes, getting fatherly advice from barflies, since there wasn’t much of that available around the house with my mothers never ending stream of asshole boyfriends. My mom had tried her damnedest to get a man to stick around before her untimely death. It hadn’t worked. I wondered more than once if that had more to to do with her crazy ass son than her affection for bad boys who didn’t ever seem to want to be tied down…