Chapter 9

TeeCay was about to respond when a waiter suddenly approached their table. Auntie Romie placed a gentle but commanding hand on the waiter's shoulder.

“Give baby girl our special Apple Martini,” she said with flair, “and Jameson on the rocks for the gentleman.”

Once the waiter walked off, Auntie Romie turned back to them with a warm smile. “I’ll check in on you two later. I just saw one of my clients come in. I need to welcome them properly.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” TeeCay replied, her entire face lighting up with gratitude and joy.

Once they were alone again, TeeCay turned toward him, released his arm, and flashed him a mischievous wink.

“Remember what Auntie Romie said. Only dogs go for bones. So pick a bigger girl; you get someone to hold on to and a soft cushion to rest your tired soul on.” Her laughter erupted loud and carefree, echoing through the buzz of conversation around them.

He looked at her, really looked at her. Not just at the curves she joked about, but at the way her confidence flickered in and out like a candle flame on a breezy night. And then he said it, his voice soft but sure, cutting through the noise between them:

“You’re beautiful even if you’re big. And honestly? I don’t give a damn about your size. You’re not boring. You’re real. You’re fun. And to me, that’s what really matters.”

Her laughter halted. She looked at him like he had just said something completely outrageous, like something no one ever dared to say to her. Her lips curved into a weak, forced smile.

“Thank you. I know you’re only saying that because it’s part of your job. I’ve long accepted that I’m not the kind of woman guys like you would be interested in. So, it’s all good.” She gave a thumbs up and let out a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He was about to say something, anything, to let her know that wasn’t true. That he did want to get to know her more. He had already started feeling that pull when they first met at the restaurant, and the longer they spent together, the more drawn he felt toward her. He was beginning to care.

And more than anything, he didn’t want the night to end without them exchanging numbers. At the very least, they could be friends. A real friend, a female one, someone he could laugh and be real with. But who knows. Maybe if fate played along, they could be something more.

He drew in a deep breath, steeling himself to finally tell her he was genuinely interested.

But a sudden blast of sensual music filled the air, and the lights over the stage dimmed, drawing the crowd’s attention in one synchronized breath.

Then, the spotlight flared on, revealing a man standing center stage. He wore tight jeans and polished cowboy boots. His back faced the audience, displaying an enormous red dragon tattoo that stretched across his broad, chiseled shoulders.

The room erupted into high-pitched squeals and screams, like a stadium of devoted fans witnessing their idol walk into the arena.

When the man turned to face the crowd, the screams only intensified, reaching a fever pitch.

The man was stunning, handsome and impossibly ripped. His face and body could easily rival that of Jeff. The real Jeff. His smooth chocolate-brown skin glowed under the lights, a shade that seemed to drive the women wild.

Unlike his pale skin, something the girls in this town didn’t seem to find attractive.

Damn it. Why did I end up living in a town where women don’t swoon over pale guys like me?

“Jesus, why did the room suddenly get so hot?” TeeCay blurted beside him.

He glanced her way. She was waving both hands in front of her face, visibly flustered, her eyes glued to the stage.

“I don’t think it’s that hot,” he muttered under his breath before looking back at the performance.

The man on stage had begun gyrating his hips in time with the music, his intense gaze roaming the front row of women.

Then his eyes landed on TeeCay.