Page 5 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

I look at the dad. “You want a picture of us?”

“Yeah, if it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition. She loves you.”

I nod as Belle turns back around. “Belle, is it okay if I get my picture taken with you?”

“It’s okay, Seb.” She smiles as she dives into my arms like we’re best friends now. I lift her and take a step back so her dad can get the shot. She lays her head on my shoulder when her dad tells her to smile. My heart melts and drips all the way down to my toes. I give her a little squeeze before I hand her back to her dad.

“Hey, thanks for being so nice to her.” The dad shakes my hand. “She’ll remember this forever.”

“So will I. She’s a good kid.” I hold up my hand for a high-five which she enthusiastically gives me. “It was nice meeting you, Belle. Will you write to me and tell me how you likedAladdin?”

She nods again—this time flashing a wide grin. I smile, tap Joe, and point at the dad. Joe hands him a card with the P.O. Box address for my special fan mail—the stuff that gets answered.

As I walk up the stairs to the entrance, I turn back around to give the crowd one more obligatory wave. For some reason, my eyes go to a woman typing frantically on her phone. She’s the only one in the crowd who’s not looking at me. I’m immediately turned on by that.

As I take a closer look, I see a lot of other things that turn me on. The sun’s setting behind her—outlining what looks like a beautiful body under her sheer dress. She has her sunglasses hanging from the front of the dress. They’re causing the already low neckline to dip even further, exposing gentle, ample curves. Her long hair’s in a ponytail that’s coming over one shoulder. I’d like to see it free—falling over her tanned, toned arms. In fact, I’d like to see everything falling tonight—the hair, the dress, and anything she might or might not be wearing underneath.

She looks up at the sky and lets out a long breath—like she’s trying to calm herself down. She looks at her phone again and then up toward the stairs. She sees me staring at her and rolls her eyes. She has absolutely no interest in me. I’m not even sure she knows who I am. God, could she get any more perfect?

“That one,” I say to Joe, nodding my head toward her. “The blonde with the long, white dress. Make sure she gets in.”

“Yep,” he says as he pushes me into the restaurant.

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