Layers Crossed by Lacey Silks Read Free Book Online Page A

saying, “So, where to,
Cowboy? And please don’t tell me we’ll be riding mechanical bulls
today, because that’s not really my thing.”
    “I can say
with certainty that I’d enjoy watching you ride, but not a bull.”
The hungry look in his stare as he ate me alive from the bottom up
forced my mouth to open. My cheeks flushed with heat as the image
of me on top of him flew through my mind once again.
    “That’s not
what we’re doing. Not yet.”
    Not
yet, I repeated in my mind.
    He kindly
opened the passenger door of a black SUV and made his way around
the car. In silence we drove to lower Manhattan to one of the
piers, where Eric parked his car, came around the front to my side
before I got a chance to unbuckle, and opened my door.
    “You left your
hat on your seat,” I noted.
    “I don’t wear
it all the time, Emma.”
    Why was I so
uncertain around him, yet curious about what he’d say or do next?
As much as I’d thought I had him figured out, I was nowhere near.
Deep inside, I had a gut feeling Eric held more secrets than he let
on, and I wondered how long it would take me before he let me in to
learn them all. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to know
everything about a man. The curiosity was driving me crazy.
    Eric offered
his arm and I hooked mine into it. Being so close to him, I was
overwhelmed by his sheer size. The top of my head barely reached
his shoulder.
    Inside the
restaurant, the smell of fried food permeated the air. The place
felt homey, and the photographs of celebrities on the walls took me
aback. From looped ropes to cowboy hats, horseshoes, and cow bells,
the country artifacts took me down south in seconds. The theme was
unmistakable. I would never have picked a shack like this as a
place to eat on my own. Yet this was such a nice change from the
expensive restaurants my regular dates took me to.
    “I’ve been to
most restaurants in Manhattan, but somehow missed this one.”
    “You’re a
down-to-earth kinda girl. I like that. I have a feeling you’ve seen
enough expensive restaurants. But if you like, we can change the
venue.”
    “No, this is
perfect.” And exactly what I needed. I was sick of portions the
size of my fists that looked more like art than real food.
    “Good. I’ve
heard the food is delicious and that it’s a hidden gem. I hope you
like licking your fingers.”
    Can I lick
your fingers? I thought. The way Eric looked at me made me
wonder whether he could read my thoughts.
    “What are you
thinking, Emma?” he asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Should I have
picked something fancier for you?”
    “Don’t offend
me. I may be a city girl, but I can do country too.”
    “Good, because
you said you wanted to get to know me to do your job better. This”
– he pointed to a photograph on a wall – “is pretty much my
life.”
    There, in
gorgeous sepia tones, was a horse ranch. It was absolutely
breathtaking. I wanted to go there and stay there forever.
    I shook my
head. What was I thinking? I’d never leave Cross Enterprises or my
family, who all lived in New Jersey. It had been my home since my
birth. Both my brothers lived there, and my beautiful nieces and
nephews. And why was I already thinking about riding out into the
sunset on a horse with a man I’d barely met?
    We sat in a
private booth, and the stereotypical waitress with two braids, one
on each side, brought our menus. Looking through the list, I wasn’t
sure what to try first. Some of the items, like fried bull
testicles, made me squirm, and I began to doubt whether I could
actually find something decent to eat.
    “May I order
for you?” Eric asked.
    “Uhm…”
    “I promise
you’ll enjoy it.” Then he leaned in closer, “And there’s no way in
hell I’d let your mouth get within an inch of a pair of testicles
I’m not familiar with.”
    “Well, you’re
pretty coy,” I said, while seriously considering his offer. “Yes,
please order for me. But if I don’t like what I see, I get