Page 17 of Blind Date with a #FORMERPLAYER
Suddenly feeling weak, I interrupt, “I love a quiet night in watching movies or television to decompress, but I don’t get a lot of time for that during the season. Honestly, it’s been a long time since I’ve done that with anyone except someone from my family. That’s something I’m usually doing alone.” Pausing, I clear my throat, not daring to glance in her direction. “Sports are my go to, movies included, but ironically I’d prefer anything except baseball when I’m not working or watching game footage. I do love a good action or comedy too, depending on my mood.”
“It’s like you’re suddenly an open book,” she jokes and I give her a crooked smile. “I like it,” she whispers, her voice sensual sending a shiver down my spine.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. What are the things that make you Layla?” I inquire, staring through the windshield.
“Well, most of the time I like softer music, but the genre isn’t necessarily important, just something calming. Lively or powerful music makes me think of girls nights, especially my best friend, Chloe.” Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, a smile touches her lips, the vision making my breath catch and I quickly force my eyes back on the road. “When it comes to movies, I want something with a good story, but I’m not big on television, I’d rather have a book in my hand.”
“What do you like to read?”
“Mostly some kind of romance, but I’ll read anything with a good story. Do you like to read?”
“I do, but I don’t get much of a chance. I’m not sure I remember the last good book I read.”
“You could always listen to an audiobook when you’re traveling. You do a lot of it.”
“That’s a great idea. Maybe you could recommend a good book for me.”
“You’ll read a romance?”
“Why not?”
“Then, maybe I will,” she agrees, just as a sign painted with a wagon full of pumpkins comes into view. She gasps, a bright smile lighting up her face as I drive into the dirt parking lot. “Are we going to the pumpkin farm?”
“We are. I hope that’s okay?”
“It’s perfect. I haven’t been here since I was a kid.”
My nerves loosen. I park my car along a wooden fence and reach for my sunglasses, slipping them on. “The only time I remember going to one was when I went with my cousins somewhere out here.”
“Della and Lawson are your cousins, right?”
“Yeah, do you know them?”
“Not really. They seem nice, but Della is a year younger than me and Lawson is two years older.”
“So, you’re, what? Twenty-six?”
“Yeah,” she says, drawing out the word.
“I’m a year younger than Lawson. Twenty-seven.”
I jump out of my car and stride around to the other side. The door swings open as I approach and I hold my hand out, reaching down for hers. She looks up at me from underneath her long, dark lashes, hesitating before she takes it, giving me a grateful smile. Heat shoots up my arm and I try not to react.
Quickly, she drops my hand and looks away. I instantly feel the loss. The top of her head reaches just above my shoulder. She’d fit in my arms perfectly, my head resting atop hers, but I brush the thought away and focus on the moment.
I’d love the opportunity for a woman as beautiful as her to see me for me.
No, just her. I’d love Layla to see the real me.
Chapter 8
Layla
The sweet and musky scents of flowers, apples, and pumpkins floats through the fall air, which here in the valley is anything but crisp. Oranges, reds, yellows, browns, and greens cover the grounds to add to the calming and festive ambiance. Colors of fall spread across the tables and ground off the back of an open wooden stand. Pumpkins line up in rows as if they grew from this ground, when in reality they were delivered here on a farm truck, likely similar to the one at the end of the field, overflowing with an assortment of pumpkins and gourds.
