Page 102 of The Opposite of Romance
Luckily, he holds on to me, doing all the work of soaping me up and washing it off. He wraps me in a towel and brings me to the bed.
His bedroom is casual, with manly, dark tones and not a lot of furniture. But one thing that hits me straight in the chest is my book on his nightstand, marked with a bookmark. I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. It’s the book I got my last award for. The book that shows my raw vulnerability, masked by a fluffy romance story.I wonder if he knows.
“It’s my favorite one,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
“Why?”
“It feels more honest than the others. The others are great, but this one … this one is real.”
I dip my head, unable to form a response. The way that this man I’ve known only for a short time knows me is scary and incredible.
He helps dry me off and I slip under the covers, naked as the day I was born. He repeats the process on himself and joins me in the bed, snuggling close to me.
“What now?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
“Now we sleep.”
I slap his chest. “You know what I mean.”
“We date. We can take it slow if you want to.”
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“So, date tomorrow?”
I chuckle, because that doesn’t seem slow. But there’s nothing I’d rather be doing tomorrow, while my kids are still away, than go on a date with him. “Yeah, I think that would work.”
“Perfect.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and it’s the last thing I remember before falling asleep.
Chapter Forty-One
LOGAN
She getsready way too fast in the morning, and I’m already driving her home. The only comfort I have is knowing I’ll see her in a few hours for our date. Not that a few hours are enough to plan a perfect date. And she deserves nothing short of perfection.
I contact Jim to check my job sites before calling my accountant to raise Jim’s salary permanently and give him a hefty bonus. He’s been pulling half of my weight ever since I started working at Sadie’s, and I don’t plan to go back to my workaholic ways. Nope, I need him to step into a big part of my role, and for that, he deserves a raise. A damn good one.
Next up are the restaurants for the date. Discovering every respectable one in the vicinity is full, I decide to improvise. I search my phone for an old high school buddy’s contact and tap my foot impatiently, waiting for him to answer.
“Logan?” Sam says when he picks up.
“Yeah. What’s up, man? How you’ve been?”
“Good. You?” His voice is still skeptical, and I typically hate these awkward chitchat moments, but there’s something I need to do.
“Good. Good. Look, I called you because I need your sister’s number.”
“What? My sister is fucking married.” His voice is pure rage now, and I realize my mistake.
“Nope. Nope. Nothing nefarious. I need to talk to her about the bookstore.”
I live in Seattle now, but I grew up in Ocean’s Harbor. Sam’s sister, Rebecca, owns the best and only bookstore in town, and she’s the only hope I have for tonight’s date.
“Oh, sure. I’ll text you her number. Take care.”
“You, too, man.”
Thank fuck, it’s over.The call with Rebecca passes much better—maybe because I offer her a shit ton of money—and in less than ten minutes, the formerly non-existent date takes shape.
