Page 15 of The Lynx and the Llama
“I got dumped in the worst way while living there.”
Shit! Did that just come out of my mouth?
She visibly saw his eyes soften, a telltale sign that she had, in fact, admitted to him what she didn’t want to.
“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“He cheated on me like the damned dog shifter he is. I should have known not to trust a Siberian Husky. They give out free love to anything with two legs. It was upsetting that the free love he dished out was for my supposed best friend.” She didn’t mean to be this forward with her explanation, nor did she desire to deliver such information with disdain in her voice.
She’d been circling the rim of her wineglass with an index finger before she dared to glance at his eyes. They seemed to darken. Was he pissed? Why?
“Whoever he was, he didn’t deserve you.”
She gave him a half-smile. “Thanks.”
“Is he why you are so resistant to going out with me?” His hand circled the wrist toying with her wineglass, and then he placed her palm into both of his and rested it on his thigh. Her hand was dangerously close to his package. It was straining at the zipper of his pants again. Scratch that—it wasn’t a package. It seemed to be more like a cargo container. He was freaking huge! And she was a pinkie-finger slip away from stoking the glorious display. She sucked in a breath before answering him.
“It’s not that I’m reluctant about dating with just you. I’m reluctant, period. I don’t think I can go out with anyone. My supposed best friend happened to be the daughter of my boss. Because of the whole situation and how I handled catching them...” Her voice trailed off briefly. “I sort of threw the entire condo at them. I started with the dishes and gravitated to the fireplace poker. It’s why I haven’t been on a date since then. Too much drama. That and I’m dreadfully boring and wouldn’t know the first thing about bringing up topics of conversation.”
“You seem to be doing well so far.”
“Isn’t talking about an ex a cardinal sin—especially on a first date?”
“First, aside from the potential assault you attempted, they both did you wrong. I can’t blame you for being so upset. As a llama, I also tend to get angry. Second? You want to call this our first date?”
“No. No! This is a practice date—isn’t it?” She let out a shaky breath as his cocky grin returned.
“Relax, I’m only kidding with you.” He squeezed her hand, and another rush of heat shot through her arm and down to her core.
“That’s easy for you to say—you’re a pro at all this.”
He chortled. “Hardly! I’m just as bad at this as you are. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in quite some time myself. When my parents passed, I was seventeen, which would have probably been the start of my serious dating life. Their deaths affected me greatly during my last year in high school. So much so that I hid behind my aggression and anger. That was my coping skill. Then Zagan happened, of course.”
It was her turn to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It was a long time ago. Still stings because I don’t think one ever truly gets over losing their parents, but I’m not as sad as I once was.”
“I understand. My family all live in Paris. I’ve been meaning to visit, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it just yet. Too many terrible memories of my ex and my supposed best friend. Plus, her father blackballed me in the press industry, so I can’t show my face again.”
“I understand. So how about another question instead of harping on the bad memories for us both? What’s your favorite food?”
“I know this may sound weird, but I love terrine.”
“Meatloaf is a little surprising out of everything you could have mentioned. I figured you’d say crepes or even croissants. Doesn’t every respectable woman enjoy baked goods?”
“I do, but they aren’t my favorite thing in the world.”
“There you go.” He squeezed her hand again as he gazed into her eyes.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You’re carrying on a conversation during a date and are fantastic at it.”
She smiled at him. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Hello, Mr. Taylor!” said the woman that checked Quinn into the hotel. “Did you find your room to your liking?” She brushed his shoulder with her hand.
“My boyfriend and I find it very suitable. Thank you.”
