Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,28
her.
Her cheeks turn pink. Damn, she’s cute. “So you’re not a stripper working the Magic Mike show?”
“Uh, no.” I start laughing again. “Are you disappointed?”
“Not at all. I started worrying that if you were a stripper, how could I measure up? Though I already feel that way, what with all your muscles.” She points somewhere in the vicinity of where my shoulders are. “I bet you have to watch what you eat.”
“Most of the time.” Being a lineman, I also need to bulk up. I eat healthy. Get my daily dosage of fruits and vegetables. I have to eat plenty of protein. But I also can devour an entire large pizza if I’m feeling like it. And I don’t hold it against myself when I do. During football season, I burn off all those calories anyway.
“I don’t,” she says with a wistful sigh. “I drink too much wine and eat too much pasta. My friend’s brothers own an Italian restaurant in downtown Carmel, and we go there a lot.”
“Tuscany?” I ask.
Her eyes go wide. “You’ve been there?”
“A couple of times.” I still own a small house in Monterey. A small house that costs over a million dollars, because real estate in that area is pricey as hell. I’ve considered selling it especially now that I’m leaving the state, but for now, I’m holding onto it. I might rent it out or something.
We’ll see.
“I can’t believe that! We could’ve been in Tuscany at the same time and not even known!” She looks truly blown away by the coincidence.
“True,” I say with a nod. “But I would’ve noticed you, so I’m guessing we’ve never crossed paths.”
There go her cheeks again. Nice and pink. I wonder if her nipples are that pink. Or, you know, the pretty pink parts between her legs. “You’re just saying that.”
“Not really,” I tell her truthfully. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Mitch.” She draws my name out, like she’s all embarrassed. “You really think so?”
“Oh, I know so.” I lean back, taking her in. “I can’t wait to meet you in person this weekend.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not some secret serial killer, are you?” She asks this with such seriousness, I start to laugh all over again.
“Even if I was, do you think I’d tell you?” I grin, unable to contain it. “I’d keep it a secret, right?”
“True.” She smiles. Laughs a little. “It’s just…my friends don’t want me to meet you by myself. They want to come with me.”
“Swear to God, I’m not a serial killer, Eleanor,” I say solemnly, holding my hand up and making the peace sign. “Scout’s honor.”
“That’s not what you do when you say scout’s honor,” she says quickly. Little Miss Smartypants. “You do your fingers like this.” She holds up her hand, the first three fingers up and pressed close together.
“How do you know that? Were you a secret Boy Scout? Have a brother who was one?”
“I, um, dated a guy who was an Eagle Scout.” Her expression turns sheepish. “He was really into the Boy Scouts.”
“Was that in high school?”
“Uh. No. College.”
I’m frowning. “College?”
“Well, he got his Eagle Scout status his senior year, but was still involved with the scouts through college. And—beyond.” She presses her hand against her forehead and briefly closes her eyes. “Fine, I went out with him after he graduated college. I never really went to college. I went to beauty school.” She drops her hand, sending me a meaningful look.
“So you went out with a guy who was still excited about being an Eagle Scout…and he was a grown man.” I start to laugh. “Sounds fun.”
“I’ve not had the greatest luck when it comes to dating guys,” she admits.
“Oh yeah?” I’m rubbing my chin again, contemplating her. Wondering what the hell is wrong with all the men in her life that they don’t know how to treat her.
And then I realize how lucky I am that they all blew it so now I have my chance.
“Yeah. I’m just—I don’t pick well. And I always get really awkward around guys.” She rolls her eyes. “I can say really dumb things. Or I just act all nervous and weird. I start to ramble.”
“Like now?”
“Yes.” She laughs. “Like now. I’m rambling. I’m totally rambling and you don’t look bored, so I take that as a good sign.”
“I think the rambling thing is cute. I like your awkwardness.”
“Wait until you see it in person.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person,” I tell her with a sly smile, making her blush. “I can’t wait