On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful--MIC Read Online Free Page A

rich and full, like a tumbler of brandy.
    “Is Gino’s still
in business?” he asked.
    “Of course.”
    He looked at
her, his smile wolf-like again. “Then let’s go. I’m starving.”
    “Me, too.” She
hoped she sounded enthusiastic. The way her stomach rolled over itself, she
doubted food would stay down.
    She settled into
the leather seat. Too late to turn back now, she told herself. The die was
cast, as her father used to say. She’d made her decision and, come hell or high
water, she would see it through to the end. However, as they drove the short
distance to the restaurant, she fretted about just what that end might be.
    ~
* ~
    Scott kept glancing
at Mic, unable to accept that the knock-out beauty beside him—flashing a bit of
creamy leg—was an auto mechanic. And gay, at least according to Jaci.
    He’d always
thought Mic was cute, attractive even, especially once he realized just how
long her hair was. The way it cascaded down her back had his blood heating and
his groin tightening. How would all those luscious strands feel draped over his
naked body?
    He slapped his
brain. What the hell was he thinking? Mic could very well be playing for the other
team. And even if she was bi-sexual there was utterly no way he could
predict how this evening would turn out. He certainly did not wish to
make an ass out of himself for the second time in as many days by suggesting
something out of bounds. He rolled his shoulders, demanding they relax. The
best expectation for tonight was to not expect anything.
    In the parking
lot of Gino’s, he paused to put up the top. Mic was right. By the time they
finished eating, the night air would have turned chilly. He opened the
passenger door and helped her out. Side by side, but not touching, they walked
into the only restaurant within fifty miles.
    Scott scoffed to
himself. One restaurant . Near his Manhattan apartment there were at
least a dozen restaurants, from Italian to Chinese to Moroccan. Of course none
of them had the veal parmesan that Gino served.
    For a Tuesday
night in Tatum, the bar bustled with activity, but the hostess showed them
straight to a quiet table by a window. The waitress followed on their heels.
    “Can I get you
something from the bar?” she asked, setting down two water glasses.
    Scott looked at
Mic. “Whatcha think?”
    “I’d like a
glass of the house red, please.”
    “And for you,
sir?”
    “Bourbon and
water.”
    The waitress
nodded and left. Scott opened his menu, but Mic didn’t. “Aren’t you going to
order dinner?”
    “I always have
the pasta with marinara sauce.”
    He frowned.
“Always?”
    She nodded. “I’m
a vegetarian and that limits what I can eat.”
    “Really?” His
stomach growled. He really wanted that veal parmesan. “Is it all right if I eat
meat?”
    A tiny smile
touched her shiny, pink lips. “Of course.”
    The waitress
appeared with their drinks. “Ready to order?”
    “Can we have a
few more minutes?” Mic blurted out.
    Scott’s eyes
widened. The waitress seemed equally surprised at the outburst as she
retreated, a worried look on her face. He swirled his drink while Mic took a
hefty swallow of the wine, like she needed to gird herself for something
unpleasant. She then fiddled with her napkin and silverware. He’d swear she was
nervous. But why? This was just dinner.
    With a smile he
leaned forward in the hope of alleviating her distress. “What’s your favorite
story about Nonie? I remember—”
    “Before we talk
about Ester, I have a favor to ask and I need your answer before we go any
further.”
    Alarmed now, he
drew his eyebrows together with a quick nod.
    Mic opened her
mouth, closed it, then downed almost half the wine in her glass. She pinned him
with those cocker spaniel eyes of hers and all the air left his lungs.
    “I want you to
sleep with me.”

Chapter Five
    Scott looked like he’d swallowed
a water balloon and the liquid was bulging out his eye sockets. Mic dropped her
gaze to