Blurb:
Mila takes a hands off approach to dating. She's independent and picky and thinks she knows it all. When her best friend decides to set her up on a blind date with a guy who an-swers to the name of Jax, Mila decides to take a leap of faith. After all, with a name like Jax, how can he not be a dream boat?
Like most blind dates, however, Jax doesn't meet the expectations that Mila created in her imagination. With how badly she's struck out in her past relationships, is that really such a bad thing?
Excerpt:
Somehow, I let my best friend Morgan convince me that a
blind date, on Valentine'ʹs Day of all days, would be an amazing
idea. “Don'ʹt be alone on the most romantic holiday of the year!” she
said. “That'ʹs the most pathetic thing you could ever do to yourself!”
No, the most pathetic thing is going on a date, just for the
sake of going on a date, all because it'ʹs Valentine'ʹs Day. I had
perfectly awesome plans made for my night alone at home: kung-‐‑fu
movies and Chinese take-‐‑out. There were no plans to wallow
bitterly either. Okay, maybe a little bit of wallowing. The point is, I
didn'ʹt ask or need a blind date. Yet, Morgan was able to guilt me
into going anyway. Then again, with a name as delicious as Jax,
how could I go wrong?
So I put on my cute, tight, black pants with my matching
corset top and long trench coat, and went to meet this guy at the
swanky Brazilian barbeque restaurant downtown.
“Can I help you miss?” the hostess asked, looking up at me
from her podium.
“I have a reservation. Should be under the name Jax?” Just
saying his name gave me butterflies. It was so sexy. He had better
have a tattoo… or five.
The hostess glanced over her list, nodded, and then picked
up a menu to lead me to the table. I swallowed, following her, and
immediately began to play with my dark hair. A nervous tic, and
one I'ʹve always hated. It seems too obvious, you know what I
mean? Plus, I didn'ʹt want to ruin my hair before I even got to meet
my date. There was plenty of time to do that later. Wink, wink.
I went around at least five corners before I got to my table.
We were way in the back of the restaurant which made for a nice
private atmosphere, sure, but the anticipation made knots churn in
my stomach.
“Your table,” the hostess said.
The table was the farthest from the front and tucked away in
the corner. The young man sitting at the table with his back to the
wall had the menu up over his face. He lowered it slowly, giving
me a peek at a rather beautiful set of blue eyes, accompanied with
tousled, dark hair. The menu was set onto the table top and he
stood, giving me a better view. I had pictured tall, muscular, and a
little rough on the edges. Some scruffy facial hair or maybe a scar,
and an outfit that was more bad-‐‑boy-‐‑sexy than business casual.
Jax on the other hand was average height, clean-‐‑shaven, and
wore a long-‐‑sleeved, navy button-‐‑down and khaki pants. The guy
had some muscle definition, because I noticed how the shirt clung
to his chest in all of the right ways, and his biceps bulged ever so
slightly under the fabric. He worked out, which was always a plus,
but there was more gentle than tough in him. Something about him
was vaguely familiar too, and I couldn'ʹt quite put my finger on it.
“M-‐‑Mila right?” he asked. He actually stammered. I wasn'ʹt
quite sure what to think about that. In some ways it'ʹs sweet that he
was nervous enough to stutter, but it was also a little bit of a turn
off. Okay, not a little bit – a lot.
I nodded, hoping that his nerves would pass and he'ʹd take a
chill pill soon. “That'ʹs me, and you'ʹre Jax.”
“Y-‐‑yeah.”
I'ʹm pretty sure my smile twitched a little when he said it.
“Nice to meet you.” Nice was not the kind of meeting I wanted to
have.
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