Not Another Valentine Story
Author
Jen Cooper
Reads
2.6M
Chapters
32
Swallowing her third glass of bitter Merlot, she checked her phone again. Waiting for half an hour, her date was a no-show. Her problem lay in her choice of men. A pit stop guys made on their way to their soulmates.
On Valentine's Day, Lauren meets a proud restaurant owner. Sparks fly. Is she again just a stop for him, or his forever?
Chapter 1
LAUREN
Lauren Landon was always single on Valentineās Day; it was her curse. A string of bad dates, useless fucks who were as bad at being faithful as they were at finding the G-spot, and the charging vibrator at home were testaments to that.
Sitting in a fancy restaurant, sipping red wine with her best dress and highest heels on, Lauren looked around at all the couples. All wore smiling faces, leaning over the tables to get closer to the person they were hoping was āthe one.ā
Lauren was starting to doubt that would ever be her.
Sheād dated them all, every red flag, and every time, sheād found herself crying over Ben & Jerryās in the bathtub with a bottle of wine. Her phone had so many blocked numbersāmore than active ones by this point.
It was clear: her problem lay in her choice of men because otherwise, that meant she was unlovable, which just couldnāt be true. Even though she did seem to be the pit stop guys made on their way to their soulmates.
Swallowing the bitter Merlot in her third glass, she checked her phone for the fiftieth time in ten minutes. It was 7:30 p.m. She had been waiting for her date for half an hour, and if she wasnāt such a sucker, she mightāve taken the hint by now.
The waitress came over then, her mouth in a grim line as she eyed the empty chair opposite Lauren. āIām really sorry, but I can only give you five more minutes to order before Iāll have to give your table away,ā the woman said in a hushed voice, wringing her hands.
Lauren checked her phone and shook her head. āI wonāt need five minutes, just the check, please.ā She sighed, draining her glass and pulling out her purse. She was not wasting more of her time on a man who couldnāt be punctual.
Not when she could be finalizing event details for her client insteadāa major client that she herself had landed, not one her dad had given to her. Building a name for herself apart from her dadās was number one for Lauren.
āOf course. Here you go,ā the waitress said.
Lauren paid the bill, slipping a generous tip in there before pulling her coat on and getting ready to brave the New York chill.
Her mind was already racing with her half-checked task list for the weekendās fundraiser she was organizing. She did her coat buttons up then turned to leave, still going over the guest list and decor in her head when she walked straight into a wall of a man.
He towered above her, his broad body taking up the entire space between the two tables she was trying to navigate.
Lauren went to apologize for being so distracted, but the words stuck in her mouth when she looked up into bright-green eyes. They narrowed on her and were fixed on the face of someone who looked mildly irritated.
But she didnāt care. He was beautiful.
He had a sexy, chiseled jawline with the clean stubble that always had her swiping right on Tinder. He was a wall of muscle and expensive cologne that had her body excited in all the wrong ways for being in a crowded restaurant on Valentineās Day.
Finally, she unstuck her tongue from her cheek and cleared her throat to speak. āIām sorry, Iāā
āShould learn to watch where youāre walking,ā he said with a bite, his deep voice speaking to every carnal urge sheād ever had.
She suppressed a shiver and scowled back at him, refusing to let her libido win when she hadnāt meant to bump into him. He hadnāt watched where he was going either.
āSo should you,ā she snapped back, and one of his perfect brows rose on his unfairly handsome face. Looked like Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome didnāt like being argued with. Well tough, Lauren thought. She was great at it and was in enough of a mood to push the issue.
āIāll walk where I want. This is my restaurant,ā he said, sneering.
Lauren rolled her eyes. Oh, heās one of those āthatās mineā guys. And heās just saying it to throw it in my face. She was unimpressed.
She crossed her arms over her chest. āCongrats,ā she said. āNow I know the owner is a dick, Iāll be sure to leave behind my feedback at the front desk. What do you go by? Mr. Dick or Your Highness?ā
One hand clenching her phone and the other her handbag strap, she forced herself not to use either as a weapon.
Instead of being angry, like she had expected, the man stepped forward. He moved quickly for a big guy, and she didnāt have a chance to escape his presence before he leaned down.
He put his face so close to hers that she could smell the whiskey on his breath and see the different shades of green in his eyes.
His hot breath brushed her ear as he spoke. āI prefer āSir.āā He leaned back, the soft strands of his fade-cut dark-brown hair tickling her cheek as he moved.
She froze, her body a victim to his toxic, red-flag behavior, and the worst part? She liked it. At least her pussy did. It was soaked, weeping like a bitch in heat.
And he knew it too.
He smirked, his full lips pulling to the side in a flawlessly sexy yet cynical way. āLooks like you prefer it too.ā He grinned and moved past her.
Lauren refused to let things end there and stormed after him. āYou have no idea what I prefer.ā
Ignoring her outburst, he continued to his tableāthe corner boothāand slid in, resting one arm along the back like the entire world was at his fingertips. And for a guy like him, it probably was.
She resented that.
āThen enlighten me,ā he said in a patronizing tone.
His challenge caused her thoughts to race. Did she even know what she preferred when it came to men and sex? The truth was, not really. Her encounters in the past had been about letting them do their thing to get off. She wasnāt an active participant in bedāshe was a starfish.
But for this guy? Sheād consider watching every porn ever made to learn how to be the best damn lay heād ever had. Not that she was offering, and not that heād be interested if she was.
She would enlighten him, though, she decided.
It was Valentineās Day, sheād been stood up, and she didnāt need some asshole being rude and condescending to her any more than sheād needed that third glass of wine.
So, she put both hands on his table, leaned forward, and took a breath to let him have it.
