Charmingly Yours (A Morning Glory #1) by Liz Talley Read Free Book Online Page B

sound fun, but maybe life wasn’t supposed to be fun. Maybe life was supposed to be endured.
    Don’t fight the inevitable. Wave the white flag. Be a good boy. Embrace who you are . . . and say good-night to the Dixieland delight.
    “You sure about this?” Rosemary asked, jarring him out of his reverie.
    He looked at her again. At the gray eyes, cute nose, sensuous lips. Something inside him reached toward her. “I’ve never been more certain.”
    “Okay,” Rosemary said, sliding back inside the restaurant, sucking in a deep breath. He caught a whiff of her perfume again, earthy and floral. Made him think of lazy days in his grandmother’s garden. Made him think of licking his way down to her navel, breathing in her goodness.
    He couldn’t wait to hold this woman in his arms, to feel her move against him to the same songs he’d danced to in his parents’ kitchen every New Year’s Eve when he was a boy. Rosemary felt like a tap from the past . . . and a shove into a different place. Like some crazy movie where a guy met someone he knew in a past life. Like something meant to be.
    Which was dog-assed crazy.
    A man didn’t fall in love on a random Thursday while handing out the midweek specials. But, of course, this wasn’t love. It was a hunch, a rabbit chase of youth, an opportunity to feel a what if pounding through his blood, maybe for the last time. Taking Rosemary dancing was an inexplicable twist of fate.
    After all, only a fool would believe such romantic destiny truly existed.

Chapter Four
    Rosemary could never, ever, ever tell her mother that she’d agreed to go dancing with a man the night she arrived. Dancing. With a stranger. In flipping New York City.
    Her mother would disown her.
    Or lock her in a padded cell.
    With a chastity belt in place.
    Even so, walking beside Sal felt pretty darn good. Like she was doing what she’d set out to do. Grab life with both hands.
    “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she whispered to herself, sidestepping a garbage bag someone had dragged out to the curb.
    Sal overheard. “Hey, you gotta live a little. Nothing wrong with cocktails and slow dancing. You’re gonna love this place. Cross my heart and hope to die if you don’t.”
    “I know I will, but I’m rusty on the dancing. Don’t think I’ve danced since my senior prom. That was, like, ten years ago,” she said.
    Sal clasped a hand against his chest. “That’s a travesty. Truly. What pretty girl doesn’t get taken out dancing every now and again?”
    “The kind of girl who lives in Morning Glory, Mississippi.”
    He came to a dead stop. “Are you telling me they don’t dance in your hometown? Like in Footloose ?”
    Rosemary laughed, tugging his arm forward. “Don’t be silly. We dance. When the minister’s not looking.”
    His eyes widened.
    “I’m kidding. We have some honky-tonks where people go dancing. I think they line dance, but I wouldn’t know.”
    Sal started walking again, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. Something in the old-fashioned gesture made her heart swell . . . or maybe it was the fact she could feel the heat of his body through the cotton button-down he wore. Her stomach trembled at the feel of him beneath her arm. It had been a long time since she’d been with a guy. Probably way too long, which had led to this insanity she’d embarked on.
    Hopefully, she wouldn’t end up with her head on a platter and her liver served up with fava beans. Her mother would never forgive her for being served with a side dish she detested.
    “So you don’t do honky-tonks?” Sal asked. “I’ve always thought those places sounded cool. Or maybe I wanted an excuse to wear a pair of cowboy boots.”
    Would he think she was nerdy if she said she’d rather spend a quiet evening with a book or a movie night with her friends? “Guess honky-tonks aren’t my scene. But you’d look good in cowboy boots.”
    “Oh yeah?” he said, mimicking the tip of a pretend