Page 18 of Cupid's Shot

“You’re really making me work for your answers here.” I squint at him.

“I told you: When you’re frustrated, you're cute. But … yeah, I never date locals. You should feel special that I'm breaking my little rule for you.”

“That’s my rule!” I nearly yell. “I don’t date locals.”

“Looks like we’ve broken our rule twice now.”

We hold a heated stare.

“You must’ve had at least a one-night stand with someone from the bar,” I press.

“Never.”

“Never?” I test.

“I’m more of a let’s wait until the third date kind of guy versus a one-night guy.”

“Full of surprises,” I muse, a little deflated that it won’t be happening tonight. But if we go out on another date … it could happen. Oh, how I would love for that to happen—to lick his abs and get lost in the sheets with him.

16

“I’m going to order the osso buco. Get whatever you want.” I admire Sarah as she reads and re-reads the menu. As much as I love her legs, this top is too damn sexy. Her chest is right on the edge of a wardrobe malfunction. It’s taking so much willpower to keep my eyes off her perfect, definitely more-than-a-handful-sized tits.

“There are too many options,” Sarah says, stress in her tone.

“Have you ever had their homemade pasta? It’s great.”

She shields her lips with her hand, whispering, “I’ve actually never been here before.”

“You haven’t supported a fellow Main Street business?” I tease and am honestly surprised this is her first time being here.

“I know … I’m on a pretty tight budget with the studio and the building’s mortgage right now. Fine dining isn’t exactly something I’m allocating for at the moment.”

I grab my glass, raising it up for a toast. “To splurging on special occasions and supporting our Main Street businesses. And to financial responsibility—because it's incredibly sexy.”

She giggles, and I mean it. She is so dynamic and independent, and that is very sexy.

“For your paintings, what’s your style?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation light, but also wanting to know more about her.

“I’m a mood painter,” she admits with a slight smile. “Probably why I've had a hard time establishing a brand. I just want to paint what I feel like, when I feel like it, in whatever style matches my mood.”

Before I can respond, Anna arrives at the table. “A little gift from our kitchen,” she says, sliding us a dish of arancini. “Do you both know what you’d like to order?”

I look at Sarah, and she nods, saying, “I’ll have the homemade pasta with mussels.”

“Great choice. And you, Aaron?”

“Osso buco.”

“You’ll love that,” she purrs, staring deep into my eyes. “Since when did you two start dating?”

Sarah chuckles, and I know that whatever I say is going to be used in a game of telephone throughout the town. “It’s new.” I smile at Sarah, grabbing her hand again.

“Just in time for Valentine’s Day. How cute,” Anna says in a tone that could be taken as sarcastic before walking away.

“It’s new,” Sarah repeats, her face beaming.

I wish I could have told Anna that she’s my girlfriend. Now there’s something I haven’t thought or wished for in a long time. But I want it. I want Sarah to be my girlfriend.

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