Chapter Six
'Don't stop on my account.' Said Matthew Mc Conaughey.
I blinked, ridding myself of the image of the A-Lister in 'Magic Mike' and taking in the image of a sun kissed blond, sitting on the expansive window seat, a laptop perched on his knee.
'I came in here to let off a little frustration, too. So let it out, forget that I'm here.' That southern drawl made my toes curl, in the most delightful fashion. I moved closer, cursing the sun for being so bright that I couldn't get a good look at him.
He sounded like treacle, and hot butter, and melting chocolate. In a word? Dreamy.
'I'm sorry; I didn't know anyone was in here.' My voice sounded high pitched, though not as squeaky as Miranda's irritating tone. 'I should go.'
'There’s more than enough room for two.' I caught a glim
