False Start (The New York Nighthawks #8) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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I beamed a smile at him. “Then I guess it’s a good thing Charmaine set us up on this date or else I never would’ve bought them.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “You don’t need the heels to look hot as fuck.”

“Oh my.”

He turned toward the hostess, and I used the moment when he wasn’t looking to fan myself. Hearing a deep chuckle behind me, I glanced over my shoulder and saw a couple staring at us with huge grins. I flashed a quick smile back at them before following my date and the hostess to our table. I noticed them speaking with another man as we were being seated, but when they were led to their table a minute later, it was just the two of them again.

My attention shifted to my date as he murmured, “Shit, sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve been out on a date that I didn’t even think to introduce myself. I’m Ames Yarrow.”

He stretched his arm across the table, and I slid my palm against his. “Dakota Sharpe.”

Before I could say anything else, the server appeared at our table to take our drink order. Since alcohol tended to loosen my tongue to the point where I said embarrassing stuff, I stuck with a glass of iced tea and was pleased when he asked for water without questioning my choice.

There wasn’t any awkwardness as we chatted about the menu and what to order, getting that out of the way before the server dropped off our drinks. Then it was just the two of us again, and he requested, “Tell me a little about yourself.”

“I just graduated from UPenn with a degree in finance, so I’m looking for my first real job.”

He let out a low whistle. “Nicely done. The Wharton School of Business is one of the best business schools in the country.”

“More like the best according to this year’s rankings.” I smirked at him. “I like to think that I contributed to that bump.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure you did.”

After I took a sip of my iced tea, I asked, “Charmaine mentioned that she thought you did something in investments?”

“I have a healthy investment portfolio.” He pressed his right hand flat against the table as he added, “But that mostly comes from the healthy salary I earn playing for the New York Nighthawks.”

I tapped the thick ring on his finger. “I’m guessing this is for your team?”

He twisted his wrist, and the light glinted off the stones. “Yes, it’s my first Super Bowl ring.”

“Nice.” I vaguely remembered my dad saying something about them winning a year or two ago. “What position do you play?”

“I’m an offensive lineman.”

“I’m not even sure why I asked that.” I laughed and shook my head. “No matter how much my dad wished otherwise, I don’t know much about football. Listening to the jargon is probably how it would be for you if I started talking about modified endowment contracts.”

“I might not be able to follow everything you had to say, but you’d sure as fuck have all of my attention.”

Having a man like Ames fully focused on me was a heady thing. Although the food was delicious, I barely tasted my dinner as we got to know each other better. Instead, I hung on his every word while we swapped stories from our childhoods through more recent years. I loved hearing about his family and felt as though we connected on a deeper level because we both grew up in similar neighborhoods. And it seemed both of our mothers were dying to be grandparents and had no problem driving us crazy over it. Not that having Ames’s baby sounded unappealing…which was wild to think since we’d literally just met.

We lingered over dessert, and when the server checked on us for the third time after all of the dishes had been cleared from our table, Ames paid the bill and left a generous enough tip that he murmured, “Please, stay as long as you’d like.”

We took him up on the offer, and our date lasted for hours longer than I expected. When the restaurant was getting ready to close, I was reluctant for the night to end as he led me outside.

“Did you walk?”

I shook my head. “No, I took a cab.”

“I’ll take you home.” He placed his palm on my lower back to guide me toward the cab stand.

When I had decided to move back in with my parents until I found a job and knew where I wanted to live, dating hadn’t been on my radar. So I hadn’t considered how awkward it would be to say, “That might be too far out of your way. I’m up in West Harlem. I’m…um…living with my parents for now.”


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