Not as far as the writer’s block is concerned, a voice murmurs in my mind.
I didn’t get a single meaningful word written sitting in the cafe, but that might’ve had something to do with how compelling it was to sit and watch Tess stand at the coffee machine, steam shrouding her, making her look magical, captivating.
I lean down and kiss her, tasting her lips and her desire.
We continue walking down around the pond, now with my arm wrapped over her shoulders, hugging her close.
We’re about to complete the circuit when somebody gasps from the bench beside us.
“Tanner Telford, oh my God, is that really you?”
I turn to find a thirty-something woman sitting there, wearing way too little it seems to me. I’ve never been a fan of the way some women dress as though trying to wear as few clothes as possible. There’s no judgment there, it just does nothing for me, and in my experience, it seems to always attract the wrong sort of man.
This woman wears fishnet stockings, an insanely short black skirt, and a tank top that shows the straps of her pink bra. Perhaps it’s supposed to seem appealing, but all I can think about is how not-Tess she is, with no curves, no voluptuousness, no compulsion to make her mine.
“Hello,” I say amiably.
I feel Tess stiffening beside me and give her shoulder a squeeze, hoping to silently communicate that she’s all I need, all I’ll ever need.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” the woman says, placing her Kindle aside and standing up.
She swaggers over to me and reaches her hand out, as if to place it on my arm, with no regard for Tess standing right beside me. I slide back easily, resisting the urge to tell her to go to hell. Kenny’d have a fit if I started publicly insulting my readers.
I can hear my agent’s voice in my head now.
Did you not realize there’d be fifteen smartphones aimed at you the second you decided to be an asshole?
“And who’s this, then?” she says, turning to Tess with her dark rimmed eyes, coated in makeup.
I feel Tess get even stiffer, as though she’s reliving some awful high school experience.
“This is the woman I’m taking to Le Beau this evening,” I growl, unable to keep the anger from flaring in my tone.
This woman – reader or not – has no right to disrespect Tess.
“Oh,” the woman says, momentarily dumbfounded. But then she smirks. “I guess you won some sort of competition, right, hon? Well, that’s just great for you, isn’t it?”
I’m about to speak when Tess cuts in.
“Yes, I did actually,” she says. “The prize was to have an absolute witch accost me in the park for no reason. So yay, good for me. It looks like I won, doesn’t it?”
The woman turns to me, expecting some sort of support, but it’s difficult to give when I’m laughing like a madman. I can’t help it. The fire in Tess’s voice is just too damn infectious.
“Wow,” she says, glaring. “Is this how you treat your readers?”
“Not usually,” I say, recovering slightly. “I was ready to be polite to you, ma’am, but you came over here and insulted my lady for no damn reason.”
“Excuse me for assuming you’d rather have—”
“There’s nobody I’d rather have,” I snap. “Nobody in the whole fucking world.”
I turn and stride away, Tess on my arm, just about able to keep my laughter in until we exit the park and turn onto the street.
“Jesus, Tess,” I chuckle. “That was brutal.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Did I go too far?”
“No, you defended yourself. I’m proud of you.”
“I think you’re changing me, Mr. Telford. I’ve never said anything like that before. Did you mean it about Le Beau?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
She rolls her eyes. “Have I heard of the fanciest restaurant in the whole freaking city? Umm, let me think, yes, I think I might have.”
I smooth strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears, savoring the shiver that moves visibly through her.
“There’s only one condition,” I tell her.
“Hmm, and what’s that?”
“You let me choose your dress.”
“But what if you pick something that makes me look ugly?”
I laugh in disbelief. “Jesus, Tess, when are you going to realize you’re the sexiest damn woman alive? It’d be impossible to pick a dress that makes you look anything other than beautiful. I want one that shows off those curves.”
She pauses and for a moment I wonder if she’ll say no.
But then she smiles in a way that lights up my whole world, writer’s block, or no writer’s block.
“Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.”Chapter FifteenTess“I feel so silly,” I murmur, standing at the end of the bed in the lacy red dress that Tanner had delivered to the apartment this afternoon.
It’s not overly short, but it does show a little slice of cleavage, a preview. Mostly, though, it’s the way it hugs onto my hips, highlighting curves I normally try to hide beneath my clothes.