Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Sadness hit me.
“I umm. . .I missed him so much that I just. . .opened a phone account for him and now I just. . .text him sometimes.”
“I get it.”
“You don’t.”
I thought of the only picture I owned of my mother. During my darkest moments, I talked to that image. Clearing my throat, I nodded. “I get it on some level, and. . .I think that you should keep texting him if you want to.”
Silence ran between us for a minute.
“Okay.” She leaned away and left my arms. “New topic. See. I told you that was too deep for a first date.”
“I think it was important for me to know.”
She widened her eyes. “Why?”
“I don’t know why.” I rose from the floor and returned to my seat. “But, I’m glad you told me.”
“Either way, I am putting my earring back on because I answered the question.”
I considered my question from earlier. “Hold on. Nova, you think that you did something wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You had no idea what your mother would have done.”
“Still.”
“And. . .”
“What?”
“You must also consider that the Pastor may have said or done something to cause your brother to do it, not you.”
She picked up her glass of white wine and gazed back at me. “I’ve considered that, but I still feel guilty for my part in that scenario.”
My breath caught in my throat as I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of sadness within them.
However, I caught a spark of something else that left me feeling like I was seeing the real Nova—a woman of courage and strength who had faced one of life’s darkest moments and kept going.
“Nova,” I whispered, “you’re strong.”
“Stop.”
“You are.”
“Regardless. . .let’s get back into a more uplifting mood. We were having fun.” She took a sip of the wine. “Therefore, now my question.”
“Hmmm.”
She studied me. “You have now made me go deep. I must get you to do the same.”
I smirked. “Many have tried and failed.”
“I won’t.”
“We will see.” I took my glass for Earth Wine and held it up to the light, admiring the deep, ruby color of the liquid.
Two waiters came over with two bowls.
I recognized the scents instantly and got excited.
The third waiter stood next to the table. “For our Water Element, we have Lobster Bisque with Caviar.”
I watched Nova.
Her face brightened, and I decided I loved to see joy coming from her eyes.
She needs to be spoiled as much as possible.
The waiter continued, “This dish represents the water element because it incorporates rich, indulgent flavors that come from the ocean.”
I looked at the bowl in front of me.
The soup had the consistency of a hearty stew. A red hue ran through the creamy white liquid. Chunks of lobster floated around the black pearls of caviar.
“The bisque is made with fresh lobster meat and cream, and is topped with a dollop of caviar.” The waiter gestured to the side. “The dish is served with warm, crusty bread. Please enjoy.”
The waiters left.
Excited, I picked up the spoon. “This dish is my favorite.”
She grabbed her spoon. “You love seafood?”
I kept the spoon in mid-air. “Is that your question for the game?”
“Tristan, that is not fair. We are having a casual conversation.”
“We are playing a game.”
She chuckled.
Her laugh was so intoxicating.
“Try the soup. You’ll love it.” I tasted mine and groaned in delight. “Perfect.”
She tasted hers and moaned. “Oh my God.”
“Excellent. Right?”
“That may be the best thing I have ever had in my life.”
I raised my eyebrows, “So you like it?”
“It’s amazing.”
We ate in silence.
I watched her sip the soup and close her eyes with pleasure.
Why is she so fucking beautiful?
I returned my attention to her brown skin, staring in awe. It was truly a work of art—a canvas that begged to be explored and admired. Throughout this dinner, I found myself lost in the nuances of her coloring, the way it shifted in the light, the subtle depths that seemed to contain untold mysteries.
That was the biggest problem of being an artist.
We were helpless around beauty.
I found myself transfixed.
Mesmerized.
Struggling to focus on anything other than the desire that was burning within me.
I wanted to taste her skin, lick and bite it.
I wanted to suck on those lips and to feel her body pressed against mine, to lose myself in the passion that I knew we could create together.
Inside my mind was a raging storm of desire for this beautiful woman sitting across from me.
She had an allure that I found irresistible, and I wanted nothing more than to devour her.
Be patient.
She set her spoon down and licked her lips.
I can’t wait to taste that tongue.
A wicked smirk spread across her face. “I have a question.”
“Finally.”
She chuckled. “You are impatient.”
“Is that your question?”
The smirk deepened. “Why don’t you want kids and marriage?”
Interesting.
I set my spoon down and leaned back in my chair. “It’s because I’m already married with kids.”