“He’s a dark one…” the Georgian. “I’m game, miss?”
“Evelyn,” she replied. “Who do I have the pleasure of sharing a meal with?”
“Breanna,” the Georgian replied.
“Quite a fitting name,” Evelyn shot back before sitting on the opposing side of the circular booth.
Even the hint of a compliment made those cheeks flush with blood. I wonder if she’s aware of her sapphic inclinations.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
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