30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,21
you visiting someone special?”
“I was.”
I don’t ask, but his eyes soften, his lips relax—he seems sad.
“My sister.” His voice croaks on his words.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He sighs. “You said your dog died?”
“Yes, she died about six months ago. Her name was Bella. She was a Pug. Cutest little thing.”
His hand rubs the back of mine; my hand tingles in response.
“Shit happens.” I try desperately to control my reaction to his touch.
“It sure does.”
“To me it happens a lot.”
“What does?” He gives me a puzzled look.
“Bad things. I’m hexed, you know, so that’s probably why.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re hexed?” He smiles, shaking his head. “There’s no such thing.”
I scoff overdramatically. “There most certainly is. I’m one of the unlucky ones.”
“Okay, Miss McMillian, explain how this works.”
Starting at the beginning, I fill him in on each disaster that has plagued my existence, from the primary school hair-cutting incident, ending at my forced leave. I don’t tell him how my dad actually died, mainly because it still hits a raw nerve. I also don’t remind him I was engaged. Any information about Mike is off limits. But, apart from that, there’s no stone left unturned.
“So you’re actually a teacher?” He pistol grips his chin and then taps his index finger against his cheek. A slight smirk follows.
“Yes.” I laugh.
“Is it bad this information turns me the hell on?” He wipes his brow in an overstated way.
“No.” I shake my head. Men! Nurse, teacher, librarian; turn on.
“So what happened?”
“For that information, we’ll need another round. Go on. Shake your money maker and get me another drink.”
His eyes widen. “I love your smart mouth.” His hand runs through his hair as his eyes lock to mine.
“And I love that tight money maker you’re sporting. Now drink me,” I reply before I can claim the words back, horrified. I guess being a little tipsy and happy for the first time in forever led to those words coming out the wrong way.
“How I’d like to do that.” He casually takes a mouthful of beer.
My legs squeeze together under the table and my chest begins to heave.
“Are you hot, Miss McMillian?”
“It’s the alcohol,” I retort.
The grin on his face says everything. “Another Mudslide?”
“No. No more milk.” I hold my stomach and scrunch my nose. The thought alone causes my gut to turn. “I’ve already had too many of them. Surprise me.”
As he stalks to the bar, I can’t help wondering why he’s spending time with someone like me. After all, I’m a plain Jane, and he’s the epitome of male beauty.
When he clears his throat on his return, I eye a coloured drink. It’s somewhere between pink and red and gets my mouth watering immediately.
“That looks good. What is it?”
“A Climax,” he states with a shit-eating grin.
“Well. A Climax it is,” I say, knowing full well he’s playing a game with me, and I’m eating right out of his hand.
“Every girl needs one of those now and again, don’t they?” His voice is so seductive it seriously has me considering ripping my clothes off and fucking him on this very table. “It’s got a lot of strawberries. I hope you like strawberries?” he asks, interrupting my very wrong thoughts.
“Love them,” I declare, trying to get images of what I think he would look like naked out of my head. “Okay, so I’m guessing you’re wanting your payment now?” A distraction to this moment is more than necessary.
“Yes, I would.” He places his hand back on top of mine and looks at me eagerly.
“So my teaching career … where to start?” My fingers tap against the table and I try to think of a way to explain what happened without appearing to be an evil person. I soon discover one does not exist. “You know there’s no way I’m going to come off looking good in this situation?”
“Spill,” he demands.
“Righto, Mr Pushy. So, firstly, I’m a high school teacher at a Catholic private school. Well, I was. You’ll need to keep this in mind—”
“Oh. That visual is now definitely in my mind. You do realise you’ll be the current visual for all teenage masturbation sessions, right?”
“Um … ew.”
“Sad, but true. Those breasts and thighs, that tight arse. I would be masturbating over you if I were your student.” He licks his lower lip.
“Double ew.”
“Just saying it how it is, Miss McMillian. Even saying Miss McMillian makes me want to flog off right now, actually.” His gaze has me spellbound and my panties become wet from his words. “Abigail.” His