Page 7 of Dancing Hearts

/>

Alright, I’m not sure if that is a blow off, but fuck it, I’ve already started this I might as well keep going.

Me: Good. What are you up to?

Within a second my phone goes off with her response.

Emma: I actually just woke up. Glad I took the day off. What are you up to?

Me: I just got up not too long ago. Just hanging out until I need to get down to the bar.

Emma: You’re drinking this early?

I laugh out loud realizing I hadn’t told her anything about myself.

Me: No, doll. I own a bar. I need to get paperwork done and stuff ready for tonight.

This time she takes a few minutes to answer, and I begin to wonder if maybe she doesn’t like that I own a bar. Then I get the text and realize why.

Emma: LOL Oh that makes more sense. We never got to learn anything else about each other, other than our love of music. Where do you live? How old are you? Well, now I know you own a bar but what bar is it? I am 22, I am a hair dresser, and I live in Willson.

Me: I’m 25, I own a bar, and I live in Brooksville. I actually live above my bar. It’s called James Bar. Seeing that we live close have you ever been here?

Emma: Wow, we do live close. I can’t believe I’ve never seen you before. No, I’m sorry, I’ve never been to James.

Damn, every part of me wants her to come here right now, since I’ve already got a hard on rockin’ just from texting with her. She really only lives twenty minutes away, maybe we can meet up for lunch. What the hell do I have to lose?

Me: If you aren’t busy in an hour, would you like to meet up for lunch? My treat.

Emma: I’d really like that.

We decide where we should meet and a half-hour later I am on my way to Frank’s, a small restaurant that is popular for lunch. I pull into the parking lot and look for her red jeep she told me she has. I don’t see it yet, so I take the opportunity to calm my nerves. I don’t know why the fuck I’m nervous. I made this sexy girl come last night. I see a red jeep pull in, and figuring it is her, I take a few deep breaths and wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans. I open the door and jump out to go meet her. As soon as I see her smiling face, my nerves vanish. I move to her and pull her into a protective hug.

“Is it crazy to say that I missed you?” I smile because damn if I wasn’t thinking the same thing.

“If it is, I guess we are both crazy.” We laugh and pull apart. “What do you say to some lunch and getting to know each other?” We make our way inside, getting seated right away. We haven’t said anything yet, but we are both looking over the menu. I know I’m just getting a BLT, so I put mine down and wait on her. She finally puts hers down. She starts to laugh and covers her face like she is embarrassed. I reach over and pull her hands down, cocking my eyebrow at her. She’s not looking at me and her cheeks are starting to blush.

“Sorry, I just feel kind of weird after last night. I’m not usually like that, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.” She can’t be serious. I instantly hate that she is regretting what happened, because I sure as hell don’t.

“Emma, look at me.” She complies, but I can see the embarrassment on her face. “You have nothing to feel ashamed of. I haven’t stopped thinking about you … last night was fucking unbelievable.” I lean in so only she can hear me. “My only regret is that I didn’t get to taste that sweet pussy.” I sit back and wink at her. Of course, the waitress picks that moment to come take our order. After we place our order and drinks are delivered, I decide to start the conversation. “My name is Cooper James. I am 25 years old. I own a bar that takes up more time than I’d like to admit. My dad passed away four years ago in a car accident, leaving me to take care of the bar and my mom. I’m an only child. Levi is my best friend and does all my tattoos. Your turn.” I give her a smug grin and take a sip of my soda.

“I’m sorry to hear about your dad.” I give her the best smile I can muster when it comes to talking about his death. I’d rather avoid the details.

“Thank you. Now what about you?” She sips her water and tucks her hair behind her ear. Damn, this girl really is fucking beautiful. The way her blue eyes are sparkling, her tongue pokes out to wet her pouty lips, and she is rubbing her finger along the rim of her glass have me starting to think with my other head, that’s for damn sure. She looks up at me and smiles.

“My name is Emma Harris. I’m 22 years old. I am a hair dresser at Terry’s salon, and have been pretty much since I graduated high school. My parents are divorced, although I see them both often. I have one brother who is in the Marines and is stationed overseas right now. Rowan has been my best friend since kindergarten.” The waitress drops off the food and we thank her. I look back over at Emma and smile.

“My dad was in the Army and I appreciate all the sacrifices your brother is making for our country.” She gets a glaze over her eyes and I want to pull her to me, instead I just grab her hand. She takes a deep breath and looks down at her burger.

“Thank you. It’s hard for me that he is so far away. We Skype every couple of weeks, but it just isn’t the same. His girlfriend left him right before he was deployed, and I was so worried about his stability.” She finally looks up at me, a true smile on her face now. “She was a bitch so I can’t say I wasn’t happy to see her leave. She may have smelled rotting fish in her car for quite a while too.” We both laugh. I love that she feels comfortable enough with me so soon to share these things with me.

“Duly noted, don’t fuck with you.” She throws her head back laughing; my heart starts pounding, and my dick starts begging for attention. This girl is doing crazy things to me. “So you cut hair? That must be hard. Ever fuck up someone’s hair?” I laugh before I take a bite of my BLT. She narrows her eyes at me.

“Hell no, I do exactly what they want.” She winks at me and I can’t help but laugh. She is so easy to talk to. None of that nervousness that I expected.

“Alright good, so when I need a haircut I know where to go now.” She winks at me while she is chewing, and fuck, I didn’t think it was possible for my dick to get harder. I need to talk about something else, although I think even just listening to her will keep me sporting this hard on. We continue to talk about our lives, our jobs, and friends.

“How old were you when you got your first tattoo?” I finish off my BLT, wiping my mouth on a napkin.

---